Always and Forever
by HopelessWreck
Summary: A doppelganger Alfred is found injured and near death with an unknown child. Jason Todd finds them and brings him to the manor, but in doing so brings the clashing of two worlds and a possible danger to the family. Murder, manipulation and mpreg, among other things.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

* * *

The sleek black car zoomed across the streets, reflecting the lights overhead on it's shiny exterior as it passed. Inside a dark haired boy stared out the window, sullenly. His short hair was slightly askew and the bruise on his handsome young face was sure to get darker by the nights end.

He scowled at the person in the driver's seat.

"I still don't know why Bruce sent you."

Dick Grayson rolled his blue eyes for about the forth time that hour. He steadied his hands on the wheel of the car and tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, "Trust me, It wasn't on the top of my list of things to do tonight either. You ran off with his car Damian, what did you think he was going to do?"

"I had everything under control," Damian Wayne protested.

"Not from where I was standing. You seemed, how do I put this? A little overwhelmed."

"I'm more than capable of taking care of a few hooded freaks. Thank you."

"Certainly didn't look that way." Dick eyed him as he continued, with a shake of his head, "It's a good thing Bruce was too busy to get away," Being all the way in China tended to put Bruce Wayne a bit far away from home, "I don't think he'll have too many nice words for you when we get back. Tim was supposed to-"

"Tim Drake is only one person and he's hardly able to tie his own shoes much less watch over a whole City."

Being the resident genius of the family, Tim Drake was more than capable of the task Damian dismissed him of, not that Damian would ever see it that way.

"Bruce is trying to cage me," Damian hit the dashboard and ground through his teeth, "I've had that damn cast on for six weeks and now that it's finally off, he still thinks I'm some kind of invalid."

"He's your father," Dick reasoned, "He worries about you and obviously he was right thinking you weren't ready just yet," His eyes flashed to Damian's, "You weren't."

"I think you treat me more like a child than he does," Damian grumbled.

"You are a child, Damian. And," Dick's mouth lifted, "you took the _car_."

"Don't patronize me about the damn car, Grayson," Damian folds his arms, "and I don't see what age has to do with it. It doesn't matter how old I am or what I do," he sighed, "he still thinks I need babysitting."

"Well I _am_ a very good babysitter," Dick joked.

"Yeah right," Damian snapped with sarcasm. He glared back out the window, sullenly, "I don't know why I bother trying, it's not like I'll ever live up to being like the _perfect_ Dick Grayson, no matter what I do."

Dick pondered the word, " _Perfect_ huh? Clearly you've only heard half the stories," He paused and glanced at Damian's frown, with a smile of his own, "How many times do you think _I_ ran off with the car?"

Damian's dark brow rose, "Surely not."

Dick nodded, "Even wrecked it once," He laughed at the memory, "Bruce was so mad at me he couldn't see straight for a week."

Damian considered this, but ultimately shrugged it away, "It still stands what I said. You and Bruce you both treat me like I'm incapable of doing things on my own. I'm tired of being treated like the second fiddle all the time. I'm not some two bit amateur that needs to be supervised every second."

"It may surprise you to hear this," Dick said still smirking somewhat, "But I actually felt the same way sometimes."

Damian watched him, but didn't say anything.

Dick took the turn into the hidden path that led to the cave. A long twist of a drive that led to a dead end. Yet, buried under the earth, where no one would expect such a thing to exist, the ground opened up before them. It happened so perfectly the car didn't even have to slow down to make it through in time.

The car continued down the path finally ending at the circular platform created especially for it. The engine died, leaving the echos of its purr to fill the confines of the cave.

Damian all but leapt from the seat as the doors opened upward, eager to escape Dick or the car, possibly both. Dick frowned as he watched the boy shoulder's tense as he walked, all but stomped away. His injuries weren't too serious, but it was obvious, through a slight limp, Damian was still healing and shouldn't have been out doing such physical activities in the first place.

Dick knew all too well Damian's mind set and he could hardly blame the boy. Dick also knew if it had been Bruce dealing with Damian's situation, he'd have been out there too. Like father, like son. Which was why Bruce got angry so easily. Damian and Bruce were more similar than either of them liked to admit.

Dick wondered if he was ever so frustrating for Bruce as Damian was now. He certainly didn't remember their relationship being so strained at that age. Not until Dick was well into his teens did they start actively arguing like Bruce and Damian did now.

Poor Bruce was in for some hell when Damian reached that golden age of puberty. Even after mentoring three orphaned boys in varying states of maturity, it was looking like the mighty Bruce Wayne might not survive his own son's transition into adulthood. Bruce had a fight on his hands and Dick did not envy him in the slightest.

With a hum of boredom, Dick checked the computers, glancing for anything that might catch his eye as important. Truth was Bruce had called him in the middle of a date and while he was eager to finish the evening with the beautiful Rose Morgan, the chances were that shipped had sailed. It didn't seem right to run back to her now after making such a valiant excuse of helping his sick little brother to break the date in the first place. He'd make it up to her next time.

Dick skimmed, but found nothing of interest. He drummed the panel in front of him to a tune stuck in his head. Some song Dick didn't know the words to.

Something moved behind him. A bat, caught in some kind of machinery, no doubt. He often joked that Bruce took the whole bat thing a little too far, but Dick didn't honestly didn't mind the creatures too much. Though he wouldn't say he openly liked them or that he was planning on taking any home with him or anything, they were definitely good for ambiance if nothing else.

The intercom cracked to life on his screen and Damian's face filtered through, "Grayson, we have a problem. You might want to get up here." He sounded annoyed, but his face was tight. Worried. "As in right now."

Dick's heart jumped, "Damian, what is it? What's wrong?"

"It's-" Damian faltered and gave a small growl to something at his left, "It's Pennyworth and I'm not really sure but something is-" something or rather _someone_ tried to push him out of the way, but Damian held his ground, pushing the attempted intruder back.

"Alfred?" A spike a panic rose at the name, "What's wrong with Alfred?"

A familiar if slightly out of breath voice came through, though Dick couldn't see the speaker, "Dickie, for once in your life just shut your giant trap and listen to baby _brat_ here," Damian growled at the unseen intruder, "and get that perky little ass of yours up here."

Dick blinked. It was a voice he hadn't heard in quite some time, "Is that-" He was so surprised he couldn't even finish.

Damian looked more than a little aggravated, he grit his teeth, "Trust me, I wish it wasn't. Please get up here before I have to strangle him. And believe me, if he irritates me any further, I will." He fumbled a bit before he cut the communication.

"What about-" Dick's question fell on an empty screen, "Alfred?"

Dick slammed the arm of the chair, angered at being cut off and more than a little confused, "Dammit."

He could ask several questions, the most important one being what the _hell_ Jason Todd was doing in the manor, but right now Alfred was Dick's main concern.

What could possibly have happened?

Dick needed to find out.

* * *

The first thing Dick saw when he entered the room turned his blood cold.

 _Alfred-oh no._

Alfred Pennyworth lay on a couch bloodied and bruised, looking far too pale. His face was slack and looked far too hollow. He looked like a ghost. He looked almost-

"Oh my god," Dick flew closer to the prone body. He was stopped halfway by two strong arms and an even stronger grip keeping him in place. He struggled against the hold and found himself looking into the slightly wild blue eyes of Jason Todd. The younger, but larger man held tight as Dick attempted to throw him off.

"Get off me, Jason. Get the hell off me." Alfred, Dick needed to get to Alfred.

Jason didn't let go. His voice was low, an attempt to be soothing, "Calm down Dick. It's bad, I know it's bad. But I swear it's not what it looks like-"

Dick continued to struggle. Alfred was, he looked so pale and still, it really did look bad. Dick's anger boiled at the sight, "I said get off me! What did you do?" His voice choked, "What did you do to Alfred?"

"It wasn't me I swear it wasn't. I-"

"Master Dick, I really do think you ought to calm down."

Dick turned and swore he saw stars from moving too fast. Alfred Pennyworth-another Alfred Pennyworth-the (real?) Alfred Pennyworth-gave him a tight smile and a pat on the arm as he passed, holding what looked to be the world's largest first aid kit.

"I've done what I can," Alfred speaks to the both of them, "I'm afraid he's lost a lot of blood and there's not much to do now but wait."

Dick blinked at the butler as he passed. His eyes went from the Alfred laying on the couch to the Alfred standing over him. The sight of two Alfred's, one injured and the other taking care of a man who could be his double, the image made Dick's head hurt.

Dick finally pulled himself from Jason's grip. He took a step towards the two Alfreds, but had to stop. It was too much to process without an explanation. Seeing them both together like that, it was too strange. "Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on here?"

"Apparently Todd found another Pennyworth," Damian said with disgust. Dick hadn't noticed he was there. Damian looked at the injured Alfred like he was some kind of abomination that needed to be destroyed, "And brought him here to bleed on the furniture."

"He was just laying there, just looking like-" Jason's head shook, eyes dark at the memory. "I thought Alfred was dead in the street, sue me for bringing him here. Next time I'll just leave him there to rot," Jason sneers at the younger boy.

"You did the right thing Master Jason," Alfred threw a reproachful look at Damian, "Though, I'll admit it was quite startling to see at first. Imagine, opening the door to see _yourself_ standing there."

"Bit startling to see _you_ answer the door," Jason admitted, "I thought for sure it was _you_ I was carrying."

Alfred tutted, "No matter their identity, this is definitely something to be commended for. Bringing them here was the right thing to do."

" _Them_?" Dick asked. Was there another doppelganger injured on another couch somewhere? Was it another Bruce or Tim or Damian or Dick shuddered _-him_? He was almost afraid to ask, "There was someone else? Who?"

Jason shook his head, "No clue."

"Are they hurt too?" Dick asked, "It looks like whatever happened to him," he pointed to the other Alfred, "he had to put up quite a fight."

"No, it's not that they're hurt. I just didn't know how to ask," Jason scrubbed at his short scruffy hair, a sign of agitation, annoyance, "and he wouldn't stop crying so I didn't really bother trying to hard."

Dick's brow shot up, "Crying? Is he okay?"

"If you can get him to answer that, be my guest," Jason swept his hand towards the other chair in the room, then frowned. It was empty. He looked around in search of the missing person and turned on Damian, "Hey, where is he?"

"Don't ask me," Damian crossed his arms.

"I thought you were keeping an eye on him," Jason growled.

"Well you thought wrong," Damian snipped back, "You brought him here and that makes him your responsibility, not mine."

"Dammit," Jason cursed, "Where did he get off to?"

"Pennyworth," Damian snapped the name, "This should be your area of expertise. I suggest you go look for him."

Alfred looked back passively, "I'm afraid my hands are a bit full right now, Master Damian," He sounded as proper as ever, but his words had bite, "Perhaps you could put forth the effort yourself. He can't have gone too far."

"Who?" Dick felt more than a little left out. Jason, Damian and Alfred they all knew something, he didn't. "Who are we looking for?"

Something fell, cutting off what would be Jason's reply. They all stared in the direction it seemed to come from. Somewhere near or probably more likely _in_ the kitchen. It sounded like-Dick blinked.

"What is that?"

Jason took off without an answer and Dick and Damian followed him.

Dick's mind rattled with questions. None of the answers he could concoct about the other Alfred's appearance where anything he wanted to dwell on. Every response he could think of only seemed to get worse and worse the more he thought on it.

The sounds continued. It sounded like-pans? Doors opening and closing? It sounded _loud_ if nothing else.

"He's touching Pennyworth's cookware." Damian announced with a frown, "he isn't going to like that."

"Maybe he's trying to make dinner?" Dick ventured in a half joke. He still had no idea who they were looking for.

Jason's mouth twisted upward, "More like trying to start a band."

They reached the kitchen, where all the bottom cabinets had been thrown open. Dick stared, because the scene was more than a little odd. Spooky even. He entered the room tentatively, "Why does this feel like the beginning to a horror movie?"

"Just don't play the dumb bimbo like you usually do and you'll be fine." Jason grinned, "They always die the worst, you know."

Dick glared at him.

Jason squatted down in front of one of the cabinets and spotted something moving within, "There you are." He grabbed the squirming form out of the small space. It let out a small sound of protest, but it was gargled and not any word Dick could recognize.

Jason came away with a small bundle of arms and legs that thrashed solidly against him. The small chubby limbs were part of a small body, all which tried to escape Jason's hold. The efforts were fruitlessness as Jason held tight and the small face crumpled at its captivity and starting to wail.

" _Shit_ , not again."

A _child_. Jason held a child. A small child who couldn't be more much more than a year and a half old.

It was- _unexpected_ to say the least.

Dick wasn't sure what to think, so he simply stared transfixed at the tiny form throwing what had to be the world loudest tantrum.

Jason held the small boy like he was holding a bomb ready to explode at any second, "Know how to turn it off?" He asked Dick almost frantically.

Dick shook his head. The child continued to cry. They all stared helplessly as the child's face grew redder and redder and the wailing increased in volume.

"Maybe it finds you offensive Todd," Damian suggested, "I know I do."

"Probably just your ugly face," Jason snapped back, "Seeing that would make me cry too."

"It can sense evil, I'm sure of it."

"Thus why he cries, oh child of _Satan_."

Dick wasn't in the mood to watch Jason pick words with Damian or vice versa, especially with a screaming child in the background. It was all a bit too much to handle at that moment and there was still an injured Alfred to think of. "Will you two stop it?" He looked at Jason as he suggested, "Maybe he doesn't want to be held."

As soon as Dick finished speaking, the crying stopped.

It seemed a coincidence, except that the child was looking at Dick as it he hadn't noticed him before.

Two large eyes, more blue than Dick could ever recall seeing before stared at him. They were big and bright and filled with sudden delight as the small face erupted into a giggle and a grin. Two tiny hands reached out for him and Dick took a step back.

Jason looked between the child and Dick in both confusion and relief that the crying had stopped, "Well look at that Dickie, he seems to like you." Jason moved closer, "You should take him."

Jason attempted to hand the child off, but Dick took another step back, and waved his palms outward in a show he didn't want him. "That's alright." Despite his earlier joke, Dick really was no good with handling children, especially one this small, "Just put him down."

The child sensed Dick's unease to take him and stretched his arms at him further with what sounded like a whine. He gurgled some more words, but the sounds turned more urgent as Dick continued to ignore him. His small face threatened more tears incoming.

"What happened to Mr. _I'm a great babysitter_?" Damian asked snidely, "Take him Grayson. He obviously wants you to."

"I-" Dick hesitated.

Jason's persisted as well, "Dammit Dick, just take the kid already. Before he starts crying again."

Dick stared between Jason and the outstretched child with uncertainty. He finally relented because Jason really gave him no choice and because the child all but flew into his arms the moment he offered them.

The child settled almost naturally on Dick's hip and all signs of any tantrum ceased. He gurgled happily and rather messily into Dick's shoulder.

Dick groaned, "He's drooling."

Jason snickered, "Better on you than me."

"Jason," Dick didn't want to point out the obvious, but it was kind of hard not to, "This is a child."

"It is?" Jason answered with mock surprise. He dropped the act and rolled his eyes, "And you're an idiot. What's your point?"

Dick didn't quite know what his point was, but this all seemed a little odd. He felt worry easing into an already bad situation, "He was with the other Alfred?"

"Well he was crying and refused to let go of him when I found them so I'm assuming so." Jason shrugged, "I just found them Dick, I didn't get the life story or anything. Pretty hard to ask someone anything when all they do is cry." He looked at the child with a small smile, "Little guy sure gets around though." He frowned as Dick pushed past him, purposefully bumping him out of the way, "Hey, where are you going?"

Dick bit his lip, "To wait for Alfred. Not _our_ Alfred, the other one," _God_ , that really made his head hurt, "to wake up." Dick glanced down at the child he held, confusion and unease rising with each second, "This is-we're talking about another Alfred who's been beat to hell and a _child._ It's safe to say, we need some answers."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

"You know when he's not crying he's actually kind of cute."

Dick agreed with Jason. The kid _was_ pretty cute. Big blue eyes and a dust of black hair, walking around with more balance than he'd ever seen on a child so young. Zooming around the room like it was second nature. The child had found the kitchen easily enough so it shouldn't have been surprising, but he seemed quite comfortable in the manor. It almost felt like he- _belonged_ there in some way.

Except he-didn't and they _really_ needed the other Alfred to wake up so they could find out exactly where he _did_ belong and how to get him back there. If they could.

Bruce was halfway across the world so even in his fastest jet, it would take awhile for him to get home. He'd promised to get on the first flight after a bit of a rushed and awkward conversation on why Alfred-but not really Alfred-was sort of lying battered on Bruce's favorite couch.

The silence that followed had worried Dick at first, but ultimately Bruce had assured his return as fast as he could.

Now they had to wait for Tim, because Tim knew things. Things that might be able to help them identify this child and what the hell was happening. Tim had also been instructed to bring diapers and clothes and food. Just until they could figure this all out.

Tim had been equally confused, but Dick insisted he not ask questions til he got there.

"Da-"

Dick blinked as another object was shoved at him. A small statue of a tiger. Where the child had found it, Dick had no clue.

"Kitty."

Dick smiled and nodded. It had taken a few times, but he thought he was starting to understand the child's gargled speech a bit better. The child actually seemed to know more than a few words, which surprised him. "That's right. Kitty." He took the offered object, making the child giggle with excitement before taking off to find more things he could bring. Dick added the figure to the small pile of assorted objects growing beside him.

"Bit of a klepto, isn't he?"

Dick rose a brow at Jason's smirk. The question almost sounded like a compliment. Trust Jason Todd to impressed by a child's pilfering skills. Dick rolled his eyes but couldn't help a small smile. "I think he's just curious."

Jason watched the child's antics, "Who do think he belongs to?"

Dick gaped at the question, "Belongs to? He's not a dog, Jason," He chided.

"I didn't mean- _Jesus_ Dick," Jason gave his own eye roll, "I'm just saying clearly if he was with Alfred-even if he's not _our_ Alfred-it seems likely he'd belong to someone we know, right? Assuming everything's the same in that time. You know, wherever- _whenever_ the other Alfred came from."

Dick studied the child as best he could, for something, anything that might help them, but he was honestly no closer to finding an answer to Jason's question. Dick was more than stumped by all this. He truthfully had no clue who this child was or what was going on.

Jason was talking about alternate timelines, which seemed the most likely cause for another Alfred appearing out of nowhere. Unless Alfred had a twin none of them knew about. Judging by Alfred's reaction to seeing the other man, that seemed unlikely. The workings of time and space and parallel dimensions were tricky and while he knew the basics, they weren't exactly Dick's area of expertise.

It was either an alternate timeline or Alfred was a clone-

 _Dammit._ Dick really wished Bruce were here.

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't really know, Jason," Dick wasn't going to make any guesses either. "Though I'll admit, he does seem pretty at home here."

"Bet you _other_ Bruce popped out another brat," Jason continued, "Wonder who baby momma could be this time?"

Damian's face soured at Jason's suggestion. His already foul mood fell further as he watched the child with even more contempt that before. "Can't he just leave things alone?" Damian snapped, "Didn't anyone teach him not to touch other people's property."

"Lighten up will you?" Jason scoffed, "He's not hurting anything."

"Until we learn who he is, I don't trust him," Damian looked back to the other Alfred, " _either_ of them."

"He's a bit young to be planning world domination, don't you think?" Jason retorted, "Hell, he's not even potty trained yet.

Damian made a face, "If either of you think I'm changing any diapers on that- _thing_ , you're both severely mistaken."

Jason groaned and leaned his head back. Despite being the one to bring it up, he admitted, " _Crap_ , I hadn't thought about that."

Unfortunately, Dick _had_. The idea didn't exactly appeal to him either, "I suppose that's what we have Alfred for, right?" He gave his best version of puppy dog eyes, staring at the older man with a look that made most people swoon.

Most people, but clearly not Alfred Pennyworth.

The aforementioned butler gave Dick a rather nasty looking frown in return, "I believe Master Dick," He widened his glare to encompass all three of the younger men, "that this might be a good learning experience for you boys."

"Learning experience?" Jason groaned, "Come on Al, you don't really mean that."

"Indeed I do, Master Jason. Being able to care for a child teaches one patience and responsibility."

"Patience and responsibility?" Jason repeated, "Yeah, no thanks."

Alfred eyed him with severity, "It _wasn't_ a suggestion, Master Jason. I intend to keep my focuses on the bigger problem of the man injured on Master Bruce's couch. I suggest you three figure work on keeping the young master as content as you can." He looked and sounded completely serious.

Dick was a little worried. Alfred wasn't honestly leaving them, three clueless males in charge of a toddler, was he? Three males who knew nothing about caring for a goldfish much less caring for a child, surely he wasn't that cruel.

Alfred walked back over to the other Alfred and three pairs of blue eyes watched him. In varying degrees of annoyance.

"Not it," Jason raised a hand.

Dick rolled his eyes at the juvenile behavior, "Jason, that's not-"

"Me either." Damian followed Jason's lead and even raised his hand. Dick stared at them both, mouth agape. "Sorry Grayson, I guess that leaves you on baby duty."

Dick glared from Jason's amused grin to Damian's mildly evil smirk, "Seriously guys? _Seriously_?"

"Sorry, Dickie," Jason said, looking anything _but_ , "them's the rules and we've established what happens when I hold him. Little guy definitely likes you best anyway." Jason pointed this out just as the child returned with something else grasped in his chubby fingers to hand to Dick, "See," Jason literally pointed, "you're bonding already."

Dick glowered at Jason, "We are _not_ bonding and that's hardly a reason to-" He ignored the small hand patting his knee, trying to draw his attention, "-stick me with him." There was a whine and a gargled, "da-" as the child continued to barrage him with his palm and small sounds of annoyance. "Just because he likes me. That's hardly fair." Dick wanted to shoo the child away for the sake of saving himself further harassment, but found with one look into those big eyes that he simply couldn't. Dick sighed but gave the child another smile as he took the item, much to the child's glee. "Everyone likes me. I can't help that."

Jason's lips twitched, "Well, with humility like that, I can see why."

Dick huffed and tried to change the subject, "I'm saying we should take turns."

Jason considered him, "Yeah, I don't think so," He decided. "I carried him here-not an easy task with a hundred eighty pound man on your back, I might add-I think I've done my civic duty."

Dick faltered, "That's-"

"Admit it Dickie, you lost."

Damian's pinched voice pulled them both away from their ribbing long enough to witness the sheer brutality of a grouchy tween-ager at his breaking point, "Give me that."

Dick saw it in slow motion, Damian's command and scowl, the protesting blue eyes that widened at him as he viciously swiped the item away from small unsuspecting hands.

 _Oh no._

The screech that followed could have very well could have broken the sound barrier. Or at least cracked every window and glass in the manor.

"Seriously?" Jason shot irritably as he covered his ears.

Dick glared at Damian as the child ran back to him, red faced and howling. Two arms extended up at him and Dick took the opening, hoping to save what was left of his hearing, shushing the boy as best he could. He growled over the child' s head at Damian, "What did you do that for?"

Damian looked affronted at both the noise and the rebuking frown, "I wasn't trying to-he had my book and I was just-"

"Stealing from a baby?" Jason shamed him with his fingers, "You really are evil, aren't you?"

"Stealing from him? He was stealing from me." Damian's comeback was almost a wine. Almost.

"I think you're more immature than he is." Jason snorted, "And he's a _frickin'_ baby."

Damian's mouth set in what was likely a fiery retort, but Dick wasn't having it. "Will you both just stop it? He's fine now," Indeed the child was more content to mess with the button's on Dick's shirt than howl his frustrations til their ears bled. _Thank god_. "You'll only wind him up again."

Jason studied him with a teasing twinkle in his eye, "Whatever you say. _Mom_."

The glare Dick sent him was toxic, but seeing as Jason's skin didn't instantly melt, obviously it wasn't toxic enough.

The child was back to his antics, moving about freely, when Tim Drake made his entrance awhile later. He took it all surprisingly well. "Sooo-" Tim's arm rotated, as if he didn't know which blindingly odd thing to discuss first. His hand rested in his buzzed dark hair as he collected his thoughts, rather unsuccessfully, "There's another Alfred."

"Indeed, Master Tim," Alfred supplied mildly from where he sat over the other man.

"Now we know why they call you the genius."

Tim ignored Jason with a practiced ease. He turned to the second item which seemed all too happy to pull on his pant leg the moment he saw Tim. "And there's a a kid." He placed the bag he'd been carrying on the table with a look of bewilderment, "I guess this explains the things you asked for." He shook his head after a moment of contemplation, still completely confused, "How did this happen exactly?"

"Interesting story, Timmy," Jason started as if to elaborate, "As in we don't know it."

Tim rolled his blue eyes upward, "You said you found them right?" He gave the child at his leg a small glance and an even smaller smile.

"Up?" The child asked, arms extended.

"Yeah, I did but-" Jason watched the boy before he cautioned, "Word of advice, you might want to pick junior here up."

"What? Why?"

"Just take my word for it."

Tim blinked and regarded the child, arms still raised expectantly, "Oh-okay." He scooped the child up like he wasn't quite sure what to do with him.

"Well I think we've broadened our search," Jason announced, slapping Tim's back. "Congrats _Timbo,_ looks like you, Alfred and Dick are all potential candidates."

"Candidates?" Tim asked apprehensively, "Candidates for what?"

Jason rolled his eyes, "Candidates for baby daddy, obviously."

"Baby daddy? Are you-," Dick stopped. "Hold on, _Alfred_?"

Jason shrugged, but his smirk gave him away, "Anything's possible. And it's not like it's Alfred-Alfred or you-you it's another you or Tim or Alfred or whatever."

"Spoken like a true imbecile," Damian bit out.

Dick put a hand on his hip, "You're making a lot of assumptions, aren't you?"

"He likes you three and seems really comfortable here. He knows where things are and it makes sense seeing as he was with Alfred." Jason shrugged. "It makes the most amount of sense. Bruce is still in the running, but seeing as he's not here-"

"There's a much easier way to solve this," Tim cut off, "Instead of these colorful assumptions pulled from our asses," Jason wagged a brow, "we could find out exactly who he is right now. Or at the very least find out who his parents are. We just need his DNA."

"See," Jason said to no one in particular, "told you he was the smart one."

* * *

Seeing all four of them reunited in the cave brought a bittersweet feeling to Dick's heart. Tim immediately went to the computer and Damian found a higher vantage point to glower from. Naturally.

Jason moved from case to case of assorted costumes and weapons, observing them all with curiosity. He tapped the glass to an old Robin costume that had once been his with a uneven smile, "When did Bruce become so nostalgic?"

"When did you become so snoopy?" Damian's hackles were clearly raised. His eyes volleyed between Jason and the child, trying to watch both at once. He couldn't seem to decide who he disliked or distrusted more. "Just don't touch anything."

The threat rolled right off Jason's back, "Are you always this high strung or am I just lucky?"

"You're _lucky_ to even be allowed down here, that's what." Damian retorted, pure hatred oozing from his every word.

Dick rubbed the bridge of his nose and exhaled, he was taking care to make sure the child didn't wander too far from his sight and his head was suddenly pounding. Damian's attitude was really not helping the throb in his temples, "Damian, I think there's enough going on already-save this crap for later. _Please._ "

Damian's arms crossed, "Last I looked, I don't take orders from you, Grayson."

Dick's mouth tightened, but he wasn't giving into to the tantrum. He had one baby to deal with already, he certainly didn't need Damian's immaturity on top of it.

Jason just shook his head, "How has no one thrown this kid off a cliff yet? And I don't mean the baby."

"Don't think we haven't thought of it," Tim murmured. "I know _I_ have."

"Gotta say Timmy, I admire your self control."

"So," Tim ventured over a cough, he spun the chair as several bats fluttered overhead. The giant screen behind him illuminated his silhouette as he asked, "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

Dick frowned, he pulled the boy's hand from trying to push another button on one of the many computers, "There's bad news. Like what?"

"Well," Tim ran a hand across his short hair with a small sigh, as if he didn't know where to begin, "I don't know if I'd call it _bad_ , but-"

"Don't be cryptic, Drake. Out with it."

Tim frowned at Damian's impatience, "I'm getting to it, if you would just let me finish."

"Boys, boys," Jason took Dick's early lead of pacifism, "Save the pissing contest for later. What is it T-man?" He rested his elbows on the back of Tim's chair, "What's the news?"

"Okay, well the good news is he's human. A hundred percent human with two human parents."

"That is good" Dick agreed, "but-" he couldn't help the whole growing in his stomach, "what's the bad news?"

Tim bit his lip before he responded, "Like I said, it's not exactly bad it's just-" he looked between Dick and Jason and his mouth lifted, though he seemed a bit apprehensive. "I think one of you might want to invest in a car seat."

Jason's brow rose, "The hell does that mean?"

Tim made an aggravated sound, "Look I know it's crazy but I ran it three times to be sure it wasn't a mistake." He pointed back at the screen, brows pinched in frustration, "It came back the same each time. I don't know what else to say-"

Worry and unease slowly worked its way up Dick's spine, "Say? Say about what?"

Tim's blue eyes flew sideways. "It's funny you should mention baby daddy," He continued to Jason, "because funnily enough you were kind of right. Though you sort of forgot someone."

"Oh god it's not him is it?" Jason threw a thumb in Damian's direction with a squished brow of disgust, "Aren't you a little young to be-?"

"No Jason, it's not Damian," Tim gave an exasperated eye roll, "I'll put it a bit more bluntly for you." He cleared his throat and addressed Dick and Jason, "Congratulations," He pointed to said child, "It's a boy."

Neither man said anything for a moment.

"Tim-" Dick began.

"I guess this mean I have to get you a baby shower gift, huh?"

"Tim-stop it. That's not-"

"Trust me I know. I know," Tim suddenly looked a bit deflated and lost his humor, "It's doesn't make sense and it's physically impossible, but DNA doesn't lie," Tim looked apologetic, "I don't know what else to say but, I ran it three times." He shrugged helplessly.

"Obviously, he's some science experiment or something," Jason waved off, "I mean we all know two guys can't make a baby, right?" His calm tone was countered by his slightly elevated breathing. For all his earlier joking he looked a pale.

Dick's eyes flew to the child. Even if anything Tim said were true-which was impossible and completely insane-he couldn't see this boy as anything other than a normal little boy. He didn't look like a science experiment, just a regular kid.

A regular kid who had reached out to him and might have called him _da_.

 _Oh Christ._

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Tim asked impatiently, scrubbing at his forehead in irritation, "I told you, he's human. One hundred percent human. No clone, not made in a lab, nothing like that. I believe this child was conceived naturally."

Damian snorted, "I think you're in need of some serious anatomy lessons, Drake."

"You explain the results to me then," Tim snapped, "because that's what it says and DNA-"

"Doesn't lie," Damian mimics, "You don't have to repeat yourself. Though perhaps this is a user error and not a fault of the computers."

"It's not-" Tim looked affronted, "I know perfectly well what I'm doing. Thank you very much."

"So which one is the mother then?" Jason was clearly trying to make it a joke, but it came out a bit hoarse. He smirked at Dick but it was weak, "You aren't hiding something from us, are you?"

"Aside from the fact that would still require having sex Jason, which is-" Dick shook his head, "-you really think that's what's important here?" Dick demanded. He felt a bit queasy and was focusing on breathing to keep from falling over. Jason shrugged and Dick continued, "Like you said, this isn't exactly our kid," He turned on Tim, "is it?"

"Not unless one of you actually _is_ hiding something we don't know about," Tim shifted uncomfortably.

"He does kind of look like you," Damian observed Dick and then Jason, "Shame he has to have Todd in him too though."

"I'm not above smacking you in front of a child," Jason warned, "In fact-"

Alfred's face flashed on the screen capturing everyone's attention, his voice was both relieved, but still slightly pinched, "Sorry to interrupted young masters, but I thought you would wish to know that our guest is finally coherent and wishes to talk."

"Good," Jason boots stomped against the cave floor, "Now we can clear this nonsense up once and for all," He turned to Dick with a sneer, "You're cute Dickie, but no matter how good you look in tights, I'm not looking to play house with you."

"Ditto," Dick shot back, but he couldn't stop the gnawing feeling that whatever this Alfred had to say, it wouldn't be good. He scooped the child up and refused to acknowledge how natural it suddenly felt to do so.

* * *

Jason Todd-

Of course Todd would be here. Of course he would have to go and ruin everything. Have to save the old man like he was worth saving.

Jason Todd should have been dead-a name on a grave somewhere. A memory and nothing more. _He'd_ made sure of that.

Though that had been a different world. Perhaps things could be different here-

 _Perhaps-_

He ground his teeth and cursed as he watch Alfred Pennyworth being dragged inside the large gates of _stately_ Wayne Manor.

 _Dammit._

The old man was still breathing and Todd had the child.

 _He'd failed._

He spat on the ground in disgust.

He'd failed and now he'd have to wait for another opportunity. Because it wasn't going to end like this. He refused to let it.

He needed to get in there. Needed to take the child back.

 _And he would._

He smirked.

 _Oh yes_ , he would get in there alright.

And he knew just the way to do it.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

They marched down the hallway, Dick's stomach a pile of snakes. This had to be-this couldn't be right. No way was this kid his and Jason's, even if it was another world, or whatever, it made no damn sense. Logically, biologically, physically, it was impossible and the idea was screwing with Dick's head. Whatever world this kid came from, there was some seriously strange things going on. Never mind that Jason and him would be intimate like that, but to produce an offspring, _Jesus_ \- it was too much to even fathom-

"Where's Bruce?" Jason asked, interrupting Dick's thoughts, "Al said he was on business, but shouldn't he be here for something like this? His butler and grandchild from another dimension making a surprise visit kind of seems like the sort of thing you miss a business meeting for."

"He's-" Dick's eyes remained ahead, even as the child pawed at him and giggled. He pushed the small hands away, but they came right back at him, Dick wasn't sure how long he could keep his cool about all this, and just thinking about Bruce- "He'll be here."

"When?" Jason pressed, mouth raised at the child's determination to play with Dick's face.

"I-I don't know, as soon as he can," Dick said tersely. He sighed after a second stubby finger poke to the eye and put the child on his feet. The boy was obviously restless and Dick wondered if letting him walk might help curb some of his energy. He didn't know much about toddlers, but this one seemed determined to poke and prod him to death and Dick was already tired of it. The child conceded his descent, but Dick wasn't free of him yet as he latched onto Dick's hand as if to pull him along instead.

Tim laughed at the sight, "He certainly is pushy."

"Wonder where he gets _that_ from?" Damian smirked.

Dick bit his lip over telling them both to shove it.

"Did you tell Bruce about-" Jason motioned to the kid.

Dick nodded with a sigh, "As much as I could," he raked his fingers through his hair. "God, he picked a hell of a time to go overseas."

Jason scoffed, "Oversees? Al didn't say he was that far away. I figured he meant Metropolis or something. Didn't know he meant freaking China."

Dick shrugged, not exactly sure how Jason would guess correctly as it was obvious he was trying to make a joke. He just happened to be right.

Jason blinked, "Seriously? China? You're not kidding, that is far. What the hell is he doing in China?"

"He's working. Something you know nothing about," Damian snapped.

Jason turned to Damian, "And you do?"

Dick stopped short causing Jason to hit him from behind.

"Jesus Dick, pay attention will you-"

But the peculiar sight that stopped Dick soon had Jason gaping as well. "Jesus, that's spooky," he mumbled.

Dick agreed, though he didn't consciously say so. It was odd and just the tiniest bit freaky to see the two Alfreds carrying on a conversation with each other. Now that the second Alfred was awake and there were literally two Alfred Pennyworths to talk to, all sense of reality seemed to fly out the window. Dick held back from interrupting them, though he obviously wasn't the only one feeling apprehensive.

The child seemed confused as well, his large eyes moved from one Alfred to the other as if unsure about either of them. He made a huffy sound and looked up at Dick, the place where his eyebrows were growing squished as if befuddled.

Jason laughed as he watched the kid take out his frustrations on Dick's jeans. Gripping the material tightly and twisting it as if annoyed, "Trust me squirt, you aren't the only one who's confused."

The child turned to Jason, realizing the man was addressing him. Jason offered a smile, not a smirk or a leer, but a genuine smile that surprised Dick. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't nice to see something real coming from Jason Todd for once. And Jason honestly seemed to like this child.

Dick meanwhile, wasn't sure how he felt about the boy at his feet. Which, he realized, said some terrible things about him.

The child sized Jason up with his eyes and after a moment of fiddling his tiny hands further into Dick's jeans, he gave a messy giggle and grinned back. It was smaller and with less teeth, but Dick was horrified to realize he was seeing double of more than just Alfred.

The words flew out before Dick could stop them.

"He has your smile."

Jason stared at him. Dick was pretty sure Tim and Damian were both looking at him like he'd lost his mind, but Dick stood by his statement. This was definitely Jason's-or some version of him's-child, he could see that now.

After a moment of studying the child Jason shrugged, his grin turning sly, less sincere and more goading, "Well I do believe he has your eyes, Richard," he swooned sarcastically. He turned thoughtful, "My smile and your eyes, we should get this kid into modeling."

Dick narrowed said eyes at him, "Stop being an ass. I wasn't making a joke."

"No. He's right," Tim looked between the two older men then down to the boy. "Actually, you both are."

Damian frowned and crossed his arms, "If this becomes any more of a hallmark moment I swear I'm going to be sick."

Jason smiled again and wagged a brow at the wide eyed child, who watched Jason with an unblinking stare, "Don't worry," Jason winked at him, "They're just jealous of you superior genetics, that's all."

The child slobbered a smile into Dick's pant leg with a gurgle. Dick groaned, "Just what I needed, more drool." He looked down at the boy with a frown, but the smile he received somewhat lessened his annoyance.

"That must come from your side," Jason pointed to the mess with a snicker.

"I'm glad you find it so amusing," Dick grumbled. "If you like it so much, how about you let him slobber on you next time?"

"But it looks so much better on you," Jason countered with a smirk.

"Guys, I hate to interrupt, but Barb is calling."

Damian rolled his eyes, "Great, now we get the Drake and Gordon fluff hour." He glared at the child as if it were somehow his fault, "Call me when all this sappy nonsense is over."

Tim shook his head, "No, It's the private channel-I think something's wrong." He pushed a button on his watch and a holographic image of Barbara Gordon appeared.

Barb's glasses gleamed as her crystal blue eyes surveyed the room, "Thank god you're all here, I've been trying to get a hold of Bruce but-"

"I'd suggest the Chinese phone book for that," Jason said.

Barb blinked, confused at either the statement or Jason's presence altogether, "Excuse me?"

Tim shook his head, "Ignore him, Bruce is kind of away at the moment. What's up? I'm guessing you're not calling about tonight's reservation."

Barb offered a small smile, "No, though I sure wish I was. I've got bad news-"

"Don't you always," Damian mumbled.

Barb pursed her lips at him, but continued, "Looks like someone's having a hell of a time over at the GCPD. Whoever it is their making quite a scene, my dad put the call out and he's looking for Batman."

Tim smiled, "Guess he'll have to settle for some Robins instead."

"I'm pretty sure he'll be just as happy with that," Barb assured, her eyes twinkled, "Second best is better than nothing, right?"

Tim scoffed at her teasing, "Second best, is that what you really think of me?"

Barb smiled softly, "You know you're number one in my book."

"God, now I really am going to be sick," Damian grumbled.

Dick stepped forward, because for once, he was with Damian. Tim and Barbara goo-gooing at each other wasn't what he needed to hear or really see right now, "Who's causing all the mayhem?"

Barb rearranged her glasses, "Don't know, must be a new guy. My dad didn't mention a name so he can't be one of the regulars."

"Is it sad that we have regulars?" Jason asked.

Tim spoke, "I'm on the way, Barb," he turned to Damian-

"I'll come with you," Jason said, surprising everyone, including Barbara, to look at him in shock. Jason rolled his eyes, "Jesus, you people act like I'm completely incapable of a good dead."

Bringing Alfred and the child back to the manor had already shown Jason could care when he wanted to, but he was still a loose cannon in so many ways. "No killing," Dick warned him.

Jason gave a noncommittal noise that could have meant anything. He twirled his gun, "I can hit kneecaps, Dick."

"Doesn't mean you will," Damian countered snidely. "I'll go; we don't need Todd going on a killing spree-"

Dick shook his head at Damian, "You're still recovering, Damian. Tim and Jason will go."

Damian glowered, putting up his defenses immediately, "Who made you the leader?"

Dick stood taller over the younger boy, "I did. Somebody has to talk to the other Alfred while he's conscious and I think they can handle it," he looked at Tim and Jason, "right?"

Jason snorted and Tim nodded.

"Fine by me," Barb said, readying to end the transmission, "Oh," she added as an afterthought, "and afterwards I want an explanation." She motioned her eyes towards the child, "I'd like to know why Dick Grayson has a son and I'm the last to know about it."

Her eyes sought out Dick's, but he purposely looked away.

"Trust me Barb, it's a long story," Tim said with a weak smile.

"I imagine so," Barb said before cutting out.

"How did she know?" Dick asked. "It's not that obvious, it it?"

"Like Jason said, he does have your eyes," Tim commented. He spoke honestly, "And it's not just that. He really does look like you Dick." He sounded almost apologetic.

Dick frowned, was everybody seeing something he didn't? When he looked at the boy all he could see was Jason.

"I can't wait for that explanation," Jason said. "Poor Barb, she's probably scrolling through all the women you've ever dated as we speak. Too bad, she'll never find the right one."

Dick smiled at him, "You do realize you just called yourself a woman, right?" he turned to Tim before Jason could manage a response. "Let me know if things get too much and you need backup."

Tim nodded, "Right."

The two took off back towards the cave and Dick didn't miss the way Jason's eyes moved to the child before turning back to Tim. "Does this mean we get to play with some bat toys?" He asked loudly.

Tim frowned back at Dick accusingly for being stuck with Jason and finally went from a jog to a full out run.

Damian watched them go while shaking his head, "I hope you know what you're doing."

Dick gave an uneasy smile, "When do I not?"

Damian's brow rose, "Do you honestly want an answer to that?"

"Everything alright, Master Dick?" Alfred asked, finally joining them.

"Just the weekly attack at the GCPD," Dick tried to joke. "You know, just another Monday."

Nobody laughed.

Dick cleared his throat, "How is he?" he asked, tossing his head toward the other Alfred.

"I believe our guest's mind has become a bit sorted. I'm not sure how much you'll get out of him." Alfred shook his head, "Poor man has been through quite an ordeal."

Dick smiled softly, placing a hand on the man's shoulder kindly, "I'm sorry Al. I know this has to be hard for you."

Alfred thanked him with a silent nod and Dick moved past him to the ailing man on the couch. Damian followed but stayed a little ways back, cautiously.

Alfred Pennyworth, or at least his perfect replica, looked from one face to the next with a smile that was weak and almost as pale as his pallor. His dark eyes were a bit foggy in appearance and he seemed to be breathing with a great deal of trouble. It was hard to watch the man struggle for words as a light mist filled his eyes in a bittersweet way.

"Alfred?"

Dick tested the name to make sure it was right. He felt a bit odd in doing so, but the man's eyes became full of sorrow as he responded, "Master Dick, I'm so sorry," his voice cracked. "I tried, I did everything I could, but I just couldn't stop him." His plea was agony, "Forgive me-"

Damian's eyes flashed to Dick expectantly. Like he was supposed to know what this Alfred was talking about. "Um, right-I just-" Dick gave a hesitant smile. "Sorry Al, but I don't really know what you're talking about." He fumbled with his hair, "Can you tell us what happened? Who did this to you?"

A haunted look filled Alfred's eyes. He almost seemed to be looking not at them, but through them. "The boy is he, is he safe?"

"Yes Alfred," Dick assured him. "He's fine. He's right here."

"But is he safe?" Alfred repeated.

"Alfred, I told you, he's right here," Dick answered, but Alfred didn't seem to hear him. The older man's eyes were filled with grief and pain, in an almost delusional combination. He seemed caught in a world of fright and terror.

"Alfred," Dick said calmly. "You have to tell us what happened."

Alfred swallowed, "I failed them."

"Failed who?" Dick asked.

Alfred's eyes widened, "They all died, there was nothing I could do."

Died, Dick definitely didn't like the sound of that. "Died? Who died Al?"

"Ghosts, I'm seeing ghosts," Alfred's voice shook as his eyes filled milky and disillusioned. "None of this is real."

Damian frowned and turned to Dick, "He's delirious."

Dick nodded, his stomach was slowly filling with fear.

"You're dead," Alfred choked to Damian. "I saw it, all of you-you're dead."

Dick shook his head, heart pounding at the thought, "No Al we're not, we're right here."

Alfred's voice cracked eyes remaining on Damian, "But I saw you."

Damian's mouth thinned, "I'm getting a really bad feeling about this."

So was Dick. He swallowed, despite his trepidation, he pushed on, "Alfred, you must know that this isn't your world, how did you get here?"

"I don't-something pulled me-It was," Alfred's faced contorted as he tried to voice his jumbled thoughts. "He dropped it-"

Dick leaned in further, eyes focused, "He who?"

Alfred's face tightened in sudden worry, "Is he-is Jackson alright? Please tell me he's alright."

"Jackson?" Damian asked. "What are you talking about? Who's Jackson?" he turned to Dick, "Does he mean Drake?"

Dick pursed his lips, "I don't think so."

Judging by the returned frantic look in Alfred's eye, Dick knew he was talking about the child.

"I told you Al," Dick said warmly, "He's-Jackson's right here."

Alfred's eyes found the child as if seeing him for the first time, despite the boy having been near Dick the whole time. Alfred reached a hand to the child and Dick had to prompt him forward so Alfred could reach him. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god."

"His name is Jackson?" Damian asked. He turned to Dick accusingly, "You named your son Jackson?"

Dick blinked at him. "He's not my-" he scowled and raised a hand defensively. "What difference does it make?"

"Jackson is Drake's middle name," Damian pointed out.

Dick waited, but Damian didn't elaborate. "And-" Dick didn't see the connection.

Damian just shrugged.

The other Alfred coughed and both Damian and Dick inched a bit closer to him, "My-time is running-short."

Dick shook his head and took the older man's hand gently, "Don't say that Al, just focus on-"

"It's true," Alfred said weakly, with a forced smile.

"You-" Dick swallowed, suddenly overcome with the emotion that this man that looked so much like the man he'd considered a grandfather was actually dying before his eyes, "Al please tell us, who did this to you? Why are you here? This child, Jackson, I don't-" he exhaled hard as he tried to get out all his thoughts in one breath, "-what's going on?"

"Don't overload him, Master Dick," the standing Alfred cautioned, grabbing Dick's shoulder. He could see the turmoil in the younger man's eyes, but pushing the wounded man really wasn't going to help matters. "I know you want answers, but it's not going to help to throw so many questions at him at once."

"I know, I just-"

"You must keep the child from him," the other Alfred gasped.

"Who Alfred? Who should I keep him from?"

Alfred's body shook, "Must keep Jackson safe-"

"Safe from who?" Dick all but pleaded.

"It's-" Alfred's eyes seemed unable to stay open of their own accord, "K-night."

"Yes Alfred it's night, we know that, please try to stay with me," Dick said softly. "I need you to stay focused, please.

For all his effort, the words seemed to drain Alfred even further. His eyes dimmed as he looked at Dick, and the younger man knew they were losing him.

"Al, Alfred," Dick tried to get the man's attention back, but it was obvious the man was too weak to reply.

"I believe we should let him rest now, Master Dick," Alfred looked at the pained man sadly, "I'm afraid we shouldn't push him much further."

Dick nodded, but his voice broke as he let go of the dying man's hand, "God, this is-"

Alfred nodded, offering a weak smile, "I know, Master Dick. I'm sorry."

Dick smiled back, "It's not your fault Al. You've done everything you could."

"Sadly, it doesn't seem to be enough. I certainly hope whoever did this isn't still lurking around."

Dick frowned, the GCPD attack, maybe he shouldn't have sent Tim and Jason alone.

Alfred gave him a knowing look, "Master Tim will call if he needs your help," he assured him. "Have some faith in Master Jason too."

Dick nodded. He didn't want Damian to see him doubting his decision and Alfred was right. They were both trained by the best and Tim was one to stay true to his word if he needed help. And Jason-

Dick's eyes trailed back to the child-Jackson and so many questions remained unanswered. Of course there was still the confusing conundrum of how two men could possibly have a child together, but it might have been Dick's pride in his manhood that put that at the forefront of his mind.

If they were truly dead in the world the other Alfred came from, what was going to happen to Jackson?

"Alfred, when we checked Jackson's DNA it said he was," Dick hesitated, "mine and Jason's-or at least," he pointed to the other Alfred, "his Dick and Jason's. Apparently, they're his parents and I'm not talking about adoption, I mean-you know-" Dick cut off uncomfortably, "-his actual parents."

Alfred's brow rose, "That seems quite impossible, doesn't it? Unless we're talking some sort of DNA manipulation-"

"I don't know. I was really hoping he could tell us, but Tim pointed out that Jackson does look like us and now I-" Dick rubbed at his forehead tiredly, "Jesus Al-the kid has no one to go back to."

"Back to?" Alfred's brow furrowed.

"It seems like his whole family could be dead and even if they aren't, how would we get him back home?"

Jackson seemed to sense his distress and grabbed at Dick's pants again.

Alfred observed the child with a hint of amusement, but his face remained serious, "I hate to be the voice of reason, Master Dick, but I think we should make Master Jackson's well being our top priority. If indeed the attacker is still around, that should be where we put our focus. We can make other-" he paused over the word, "-arrangements later."

This whole thing was making Dick's head hurt, in more ways than one "I mean we're talking about parallel dimensions, Al. How freaky is that?"

Alfred nodded, "Freaky indeed, Master Dick. It's certainly not something one hopes to ever see," he admitted looking at the couch, face pinched.

This just made Dick feel worse. He cringed at his own selfishness, "Sorry Al," It's not like Dick had to watch his other self suffer, like Alfred did. "It's just-god, I wish Bruce was here."

"Shouldn't be long now," Alfred assured him. He gave Jackson an affectionate pat on the head and turned back to Dick, "Let's take it one problem at a time."

Dick sighed, Alfred may as well have been asking him to change his name and color his hair green, "You know I've never been very good at sitting and waiting, Al."

"We've noticed," Damian drawled.

Jackson pounded his hand against Dick's leg to garner the man's attention, he put his fist halfway in his mouth and it came away covered in drool.

Dick made a face and Alfred's smile was sympathetic, "He's teething Master Dick. I can only assume you did the same thing when you were his age. But I do think the young master might also be quite famished, poor lad probably hasn't eaten in awhile."

Looking at Jackson, Dick realized Alfred was probably right.

He turned back to Alfred to ask for his assistance, but the other man was back to checking on his other self worriedly. It didn't seem fair to burden the older man with the task of feeding what appeared to be-in some sense anyway-his child. Not with a such a big responsibility already resting on the butler's shoulders.

Dick distracted himself from any further thoughts of putting Jackson and _his_ together in the same sentence by grabbing the child's other, drool-free hand and saying, "Let's see what Tim brought for you in his magic bag."

"Don't you mean Uncle Tim?" Damian snapped sarcastically.

Dick smirked, "Well I don't know Uncle Damian, do I?"

* * *

He'd been ignoring the voice for awhile now, but the bastard just wouldn't give up. When he'd been chasing after the child he'd never once dreamed he'd be sent to another dimension. He'd been pissed and probably a bit sloppy and the device falling out of his pocket was technically his fault, but it was the old man's unsteady hands that had activated it. The old butler had been so damn desperate, turning on him what he no doubt hoped was a weapon and now he had no clue where or even when he was.

The good news, despite his immediate anger at the idea of being stranded here was the possibility that had inadvertently opened up for him. Pennyworth's foolishness had opened a door he hadn't thought of.

The smooth voice that returned was filled with a mocking mirth, "You can't be thinking what I think you're thinking." It laughed, "As if you'd get the chance, after what you did-"

"Shut up," he swallowed against the thought, it was still a lot to take in, dead-they-were all dead. "This is all your fault. I'm not gonna let you kill him too."

"I never said anything about killing him, though I have to say you're devotion-after everything-is quite astounding-"

He shook his head, it wasn't devotion-

"Now get that boy," the voice said to his silence before clicking out.

He'd get the boy, but, he decided as he palmed the canister filled with gas, he'd do it in his own way.

Standing atop the GCPD, he wondered how long it would take for one or all of them to arrive.

He didn't have to wait long.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

The figure stood on the roof, tall and imposing; a black silhouette in the darkness. Cocky and arrogant, he didn't so much as move. His face was masked-blocked from human view, but it was obvious, the man was smug and probably grinning on top of it. Jason spotted him first and moved as if to jump immediately into action. Tim was less hurried, staying back a bit, not because he was fearful, but because he was cautious. Someone with that much gall and cockiness usually had a trick or two up their sleeve.

Tim held Jason's arm to stay his movements, "Wait, we should work together on this. Let's not be reckless."

"Reckless?" Jason tossed the word away. "You take one side I'll take the other. Not exactly rocket science, Timbo."

"Jason-" Tim tried, but as usual, Jason Todd wasn't listening. He was already climbing the building and Tim had no choice but to follow. Tim swore the man had cotton in his ears and a peanut for a brain. He could only hope Jason's genes were recessive and the poor kid sharing his DNA didn't have to be strapped looking and acting exactly like him.

Heaven help any world cursed with _two_ Jason Todd's.

What Jason didn't see in his haste to be a severe pain in the ass and the resident show off was the canister the man held in his hand. Truthfully, Tim didn't see it either, didn't hear or see it roll down from the rooftop until it was too late. A clunk and the object popped open, emitting the air around them into a sea of gas.

 _Crap._

Tim knew immediately as the world turned to a sweep of reds and oranges, echoing around every corner of his vision, things had just gone from bad to worse.

Suddenly the GCPD building grew exponentially larger, so much so that as he finally reached the roof, Tim couldn't see the ground below, only fog. He held back the feeling of nausea at the sudden vertigo attacking him.

Tim swallowed and gripped the ledge in a white knuckled hold. _Not good, really not good._

Tim never saw the figure move, but he must have. One second the shadow was there, the next Tim's world was being tossed about. Fading away and pushing forward, his vision was pulsing, as was his head.

Someone was watching him, Tim felt the shadow, knew whoever or whatever was warping his mind was also distorting his vision. Somewhere Jason was calling him, but it was too hard to focus on his voice, because the shadow was upon him.

Like a hawk swooping, the darkness fell on him.

Tim kicked out, but the man evaded and within a barely countable second a gun was at Tim's head.

Tim flinched, but readied his hand on his staff, just waiting for the chance to spring it open and knock the man away.

The distorted voice laughed in his ear and Tim shivered at the feeling, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." The masked man raised his other arm in Jason's direction, holding a second gun with ease and such speed Jason barely had time enough to raise his own firearm in return. "Either of you."

It was a standoff and Jason couldn't help the feeling that this guy, whoever this piece of shit was, was observing him, tilting his head to and fro at Jason creepily. His mask indicated some kind of bat, and while it wasn't aesthetically a bad look, it bordered a bit on pathetic in Jason's mind.

"Nice costume," Jason observed with a smirk. "Let me guess, you're Batman?"

"Hardly," the man replied. He motioned his gun up and down at Jason, "Though you obviously didn't get the memo, red is so last season."

Jason's gun was solid and steady in his hand, he raised a brow, "Fashion tips from a psychopath, never thought I'd see the day."

"Psychopath?" The man scoffed. "I don't think you have much room to talk. Do you, Jason Todd?"

Jason stilled, "Who the hell are you?"

The man pushed the gun closer to Tim when he felt the young man move, "Don't think I won't use this Drake. I'm not against spilling that beautiful brain of yours on the concrete. Now be a good little birdie and stay still!" he commanded.

The man was obviously trying to get under their skins by using their names, but Jason was hardly one to be intimidated by such a tactic. "Impressive," Jason replied, nonplussed. "Now how about we finish roll call and you tell us just who the hell you are. Seems only fair."

"And ruin the surprise, where's the fun in that?"

"Oh, you're looking for fun are you?" Jason asked with a sneer. "You should have said so in the first place."

The bullet shot off and grazed the man in the shoulder, but judging by his lack of reaction on its impact, it hardly stung him, if at all. "Cute," the man granted, as if Jason were an adorable puppy he should pat on the head. Tim had taken the cue and jumped back and away from the man, now armed and ready, though he looked a bit unsteady on his feet. The gas, Jason realized, Tim looked ready to fall over at any second.

The man sighed. "And here I thought we could all play nice."

"You want to play," Jason taunted. "Let's play."

The man ignored him, instead turning on Tim, who had struck out at him.

Tim tried his best, but his feet just wouldn't cooperate. One swift hit and his mind was buzzing and dimming into darkness.

"I told you to stay still," the man tutted before looking back at Jason with a head shake. "Never listen anymore, these kids."

"Leave him alone, it's me you need to deal with," Jason aimed again. "And I won't be falling over so easily."

The man lifted his shoulders in a massive shrug, then cracked his neck. "Actually, I think you will."

Jason wasn't sure what hit him first, the realization that the man was charging at him, or the pain that exploded in his ribs as he did. Before he could fathom how or why, Jason shot off another round that may or may not have hit something as the two of them went sailing over the edge and towards the ground.

Pain, bright lights, the whole world was a blur of colors that mocked Jason's senses. His mouth tasted of ash and his eyes refused to open. How he was still breathing he didn't know.

A breath, cool, but not unpleasant and the unfiltered voice crept in his ear as a hand swept across Jason's hair and face and finally fell away.

"You made this all too easy," the voice murmured at him, mockingly soothing in tone. His boots shifted around Jason, though he couldn't see them. "It's actually kind of pathetic."

Jason gasped against the pain, everything fucking hurt and breathing quickly became a task of immense torture.

"Hold on now," A slap to Jason's face. "I know this must be a bit shocking for you but I can't have you dying on me. Not yet." Something pulled from a sheath, something that sounded suspiciously like a knife. "Just got to make a few adjustments and we'll be good to go. Can't say it's not a shame to mar up such a pretty face though."

Jason croaked something that should have been a _fuck you_ , but was more a groan of intelligible sounds that made the man chuckle, right before Jason gave into the world of darkness.

* * *

Tim's eyes flickered open at the insistence of the hand that kept trying to shake him awake. How long he'd been out, Tim didn't know, but his head still felt like it was spinning.

"Hey," Jason's voice and face waved in and out of Tim's vision like a television whose picture and sound weren't quite right.

The ground was cold beneath him and Tim struggled to keep his eyes open. "What happened?" he slurred as he rose to his feet unsteadily.

Jason's face was a mess of crimson, like it'd been slashed completely open on one side. Tim grimaced, but despite the mess, Jason smiled, making the wound bleed even more. Jason presented a man bound and gagged like a pig for the slaughter. "It's over. I got him."

Tim wasn't sure why that sounded weird and not at all reassuring, maybe it was because Jason's face was still melting somewhat or that the blood was openly pouring down his cheek or that there was a knife in Jason's hand.

"I thought you were dead."

Jason raised a brow.

"I meant," Tim explained. "When I saw you fall, I know I shouldn't have, but I thought you were probably dead."

"Clearly, you thought wrong," Jason answered back, a bit coldly.

Tim tried to nod, but his head just hurt too damn bad, "You know who he is?" he asked, indicating to the de-masked man who wasn't anyone Tim could say he knew, yet there was definitely something familiar about him.

"Nope," Jason's lips popped. "But now's the fun part where we get to go and see just who he is and what it is that makes him tick." His lips curled at the unknown assailant, who was glaring, though clearly unable to speak. "Right, buddy boy?"

"Save the romantic talk for later," Tim said dryly. "I'm gonna find the commissioner and then we can head back.

At the turn of Tim's back an expression filled Jason's face-one that the young man was probably better off not seeing.

The captive saw it though and the sight made the man struggle even more against his bonds. He looked furious.

"Don't worry," Jason assured him with a shushing motion. "We'll all get to have some fun."

The man shook his head.

"And by we, of course," Jason said, placing the point of his knife under his fingernail and sneering at the other man. "I mean me."

* * *

"Pennyworth's going to be appalled," Damian frowned, face twisted in disgust at the mess before him. "This is horrendous, Grayson. He's a monster."

"He's not a-" Dick retorted, accidentally smashing yet another cheddar flavored cracker under his foot. He sighed, "He's not a monster."

Damian huffed at another fallen noodle. "He's going to ruin something," he insisted.

"I think the floor will live, Damian. I'm sure it'll take more than one toddler to take down Wayne Manor," Dick replied with slight annoyance. He really didn't need a play by play on Jackson's dining habits, but _really_ , who knew getting a kid to eat would be so damn difficult? The bowl of macaroni and the small mound of crackers were quickly becoming more of a plaything for Jackson than actual food. It didn't help that Jackson was using Dick's lap as a chair or that he was more happy to offer his spoonful of noodles away than eat them.

"I thought Alfred said he was hungry," Dick moaned, taking another spoonful that was offered to him and miming eating it before handing it back.

"He does have Todd in him," Damian reminded, observing the child in all seriousness, glaring when the spoon was offered to him next and pointedly folding his arms. "It could have been a rouse."

"A rouse," Dick laughed. "I hardly think a toddler is capable of a rouse, Damian."

"With Todd blood you never know."

Dick barely caught the juice filled cup from falling off the table as Jackson tried to reach for it. He held it steady while the boy drank, "You make it sound like a disease."

A dark brow rose. "Isn't it?"

Dick shook his head just as he spied Jackson attempting to slide off his lap and under the table, intent on abandoning his barely eaten meal. He moved faster when he saw Dick had spotted him and Dick only caught him right before the top of his head disappeared, grabbing him to sit back upright.

"I don't think so, bud," Dick chided, taking the spoon from his small hand and scooping it in the pasta. Jackson frowned at him and shook his head. "Aw-come on," Dick tried. "It's not so bad. In fact, you should be flattered," he joked. "I don't prepare cuisine like this for just anyone."

Jackson pouted in a way that oddly reminded Dick of Damian for some reason. The boy huffed and rubbed a hand over his eyes irritably, but finally took the bite Dick offered him, albeit unhappily.

"You do realize," Damian said with no small amount of smugness, "He's going to need a bath."

"What?" Dick looked at Jackson and the boy shot him a confused look as he chewed his food. He realized Jackson was a little-okay a lot dirty on second glance, but surely- "He's not that bad."

Which is about when Jackson decided another attempt to flee under the table, grabbing the tablecloth and taking the bowl and juice with him. Both tipped over and the resulting mess left the boy's face, hair, and shirt slathered in unseemly shades of red and yellow. Dick pulled a face as Damian snickered.

"You were saying?"

Damian's smirk fell when Jackson started crying, clearly unhappy about the sticky clothes and cheese all over him.

"Right, well-have fun with that," Damian said as he swept away.

"Thank you, Damian," Dick snapped. "As usual you've been so incredibly helpful." He turned back to Jackson with a sigh, "And you-"

Jackson whimpered and tugged at his stained shirt pathetically.

Dick sighed-apparently not bathing was now out of the question. "It's a good thing you're cute, or I might just leave you like that."

Jackson raised his arms and Dick was about to begrudgingly take him, but only after he'd removed the boy's shirt, causing Jackson to giggle, when Damian's voice called from somewhere nearby.

"Grayson, you might want to get in here."

Dick looked at Jackson, feeling a weariness and defeat he normally wasn't susceptible to. "I swear if anyone else shows up on the doorstep, I'm going back to Bludhaven and unplugging every device I own. I mean it."

The threat was lost on Jackson, who just blinked.

"Glad you agree," Dick said before he scooped Jackson up and they left the kitchen, heading towards Damian's voice.

* * *

The sight that greeted Dick wasn't much better than he expected. Tim looked bruised and a bit out of sorts, but Jason was worse. His cheek was a bright crimson soaking through the towel used to attempt to stop what appeared to be some severe bleeding. He held his ribs as if in pain and his breathing seemed somewhat more labored than usual.

Dick frowned at the sight. It seemed wrong for a child to see something so violent, and though his first instinct was to cover Jackson's eyes, he held back from actually doing so. Did the toddler even know what blood was or what it meant? Did it matter? For some reason, Dick thought so.

Why it seemed different that Jackson would see Jason like this when Alfred had clearly been worse off Dick didn't know, but it did.

"Damian," Dick said, in the tone that meant he wasn't kidding. "Take Jackson-he doesn't need to see this."

Damian's lips thinned. "If you think for one moment I'm-" A rough cough courtesy of Alfred, who was already tending to Jason, told the boy this wasn't the time to argue.

"Fine," Damian snapped after a moment. "Put him down though. I'm not carrying him. He can walk just fine as we've all seen."

Dick put him down and Damian looked at Jackson with only slightly less disdain than their first meeting. He grabbed the boy's arm, yanking him along and out of the room.

As soon as they were gone, Dick all but pounced on Tim and Jason. "What happened?"

Jason's eyes were on him, unmoving, unwavering and very, very blue. It looked for a moment as if he might have a concussion, he looked hard pressed to speak.

Tim was the first to speak, "Bastard got the better of us. He used some kind of new fear toxin on us, swept me right off my feet," he was ashamed to admit.

"Scarecrow?" Dick asked.

Tim shook his head. "Nope, he almost looks like-" he hesitated. "Like he's one of us-or he wants to be anyway."

"One of us?"

"He had a bat symbol and his helmet," Tim paused and looked over at Jason. "He threw Jason off the GCPD building, it's a miracle he didn't come out worse."

"Great, a new freak with another vendetta against us," Dick sighed. "What happened to him?"

"I took care of him," Jason admitted. "Not before the bastard gave me this though," he gestured to the wound on his cheek. His eyes darkened to an almost black shade of anger.

Dick took the admission as the worst possible option, "Jason!"

It took a moment for Jason to acknowledge it was him Dick was addressing. Definitely a concussion, Dick decided.

"He's in the lockup in the cave," Tim explained at Jason's prolonged silence. He frowned. "Though I'm not sure I want to know exactly _what_ you did to him," he said to Jason.

Jason merely shrugged and Tim turned back to Dick. "Somehow his vocal cords have been damaged-"

Dick glared at Jason, who held his hands up. "He was attacking me with a knife and I fought back. I didn't mean to do it, it just sort of happened. Honest. Don't look at me like that. It'll heal-in time."

Dick frowned.

"It was either me or him, Dick. I'm sorry, alright?" Something so earnest shone through in Jason's eyes it was hard to take his words as anything but the truth, even if they weren't.

Dick sighed, "Is he the one who attacked Alfred and Jackson?"

"Jackson?" Tim asked in confusion. Then it snapped. "Is that the kid's name?"

Dick let a small smile slip, "That's what the other Alfred called him. Figured it was best to keep with it. It sort of fits him."

Tim made a sound in his throat that could definitely be taken as a positive agreement. "Well, it _is_ a good name."

Jason rolled his eyes and then groaned at the pain.

Dick sighed, "I suppose we'll have to interrogate him," his eyes unconsciously went to Jason in disapproval. "Somehow"

Tim cracked his knuckles, "After what that freak did to me, I'll gladly find anyway I can to make him talk."

Jason watched them both with a faraway expression, but as their eyes met, blue on blue, Dick found it hard to look away. He swallowed. Jason's eyes, they were intense, but something else seemed to lie beneath his gaze, something Dick wasn't sure he could put a name to.

Dick shook it off and cleared his throat awkwardly, "Well, not be rude, but it looks like you'll both live so I'm gonna go talk-err or try to communicate anyway-with our guest."

"Trust me," Jason said, the side of his mouth lifting. "He's probably still out like a light right now."

"I'm sure we can find some way to wake him up," Dick assured.

"I'll go with you," Tim nodded to Alfred, gave Jason a glance that was slightly above irritated, and the two took off towards the cells.

* * *

"So," Dick ventured after a moment of silence. "Seems like Jason controlled himself pretty well."

Tim crossed his arms, "He may have destroyed the guy's larynx Dick, that's hardly worthy of a purple heart. And if you think the fact that he didn't shoot him in the face means I'm taking him up as a partner or we're sitting next to each other in the next family portrait, forget it."

Dick held a hand in appeasement at Tim's severe frown. "No, no, I only meant that-," he turned to Tim with a small smile he hoped didn't look like a grimace. "I mean Jason's not-"

Tim's dark brows furrowed. "He's a pain in the ass Dick. He's always been a pain in the ass and he will _always_ be a pain in the ass."

"True," Dick didn't disagree with that. Jason could be a pain at even his best moments. "It's just maybe we should cut him a little slack, you know?"

Tim sighed. He looked at Dick earnestly and his voice fell, "Look, I'm not saying Jason doesn't have his good qualities, I just-" he fell off.

"Just what?" Dick pressed.

Tim's eyes flickered uncertainly. "I just-I don't want you getting carried away."

"Carried away?" Dick asked. What the hell was that supposed to mean? "And what do you mean by _you_?" Was Tim trying to insinuate something about Dick?

Tim shook his head and sighed, "Never mind, just remember that Jackson isn't-" his lips pursed. "You know what, forget it. It's not my business. Forget I said anything."

Dick wanted to persist, but it was obvious by the set of Tim's shoulders, the conversation was over.

"It's odd though," Tim finally said, after moments of walking silently next to each other with only the sounds of their feet filling the hallway. "It all just happened so fast. The guy attacked me and Jason, then he and Jason fell off the roof and I-" he scrubbed his hair absently. "I remember waking up and Jason was covered in blood. It's-I couldn't even tell you when or why anything happened. He must have really hated the other versions of us if he really was the one that killed them. I wonder why?"

Dick shrugged, "Lots of people hate us. The better question is what he wanted with Alfred and Jackson, and if he's the reason they're here or not," Dick replied. "Either way-we're going to find out."

 _Hopefully._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

The voice returned, condescension and anger filling every word. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but it's not going to work."

He could only fixate on one thing as he watched the old man leave to tend to the other version of himself. He flexed his fingers and couldn't help the feeling of rightness at how they responded so naturally. "I know what I'm doing." He said quietly.

"Famous last words. We had a deal, don't forget that. You will not ruin my plans."

"Plans?" He shook his head, though the voice couldn't see it. "Look where your damn plans have got us so far."

He was done playing the puppet. Fuck anyone else's plan; _he_ was making the plans now,

The voice could tell something had changed, and the voice didn't like it, "Don't be getting ideas boy, I own you remember?"

No, he decided, but didn't say, not anymore. No one owned him anymore.

The voice fell quiet or maybe he just tuned it out. His hand went to the unfamiliar jacket pocket which held two items. The transporter and something else. Something cool that ran across his fingers. This, he decided as he murmured ancient words and grasped the object, this was his answer. This would destroy and build everything that had been taken from him.

Damn the voice, it had done nothing but lie to him anyway. He wasn't following anymore goddamn plans filled with only empty promises.

This was his second chance.

This was his new beginning.

He was right were he belonged and soon-

Soon everything would be as it should.

* * *

Jackson-was it Grayson or Todd, Todd-Grayson, Grayson-Todd? Damian shook his head, it didn't matter what the little brat's name was. Jackson Todd he decided (for truly the boy was Todd's blood) was probably the most stubborn child Damian had ever met. Granted Damian's list of other children he could acquaint himself with was pretty much nil, but either way this little Todd boy-was an obstinately small mongrel that seemed more suited for a hosing down in the front lawn than a bath tub.

For all Damian's early jabbing at Grayson and ultimately not wanting to touch the filthy boy, it was still a miracle, even to Damian himself, how he managed to get the boy in the tub.

Never mind why Damian was doing this in the first place.

Determination, Damian told himself, to show his dominance over this little hellion and prove that being bested by anyone, especially what was essentially a very small version of Jason Todd and Dick Grayson combined, was not an option. Jackson was bathed and surprisingly, or perhaps it was the warning glare Damian shot him, the boy hardly fussed at all.

"Just because Grayson is content with having a walking pig pen for a-" was it even right to say son? Damian shrugged, "-whatever you are, it doesn't mean I will allow such filth in my home, do you understand me?"

His only response was a smile.

Damian frowned.

The towel had fallen away and the little monster was now insisting on using it more as a toy than its intended purpose, sucking his slobbering mouth on the end of it and attempting a ridiculous game of hide and seek.

Jackson grinned at him, even as Damian retrieved the towel to dry the boy off proper.

"Da'n," the boy gurgled happily, trying to attach his still damp body onto Damian's.

Damian's hands stilled and he shot back. He stared at Jackson and couldn't contain his shock, "What did you just say?"

Jackson repeated the word. He was, the little brat had-Damian blinked, had he said Damian's name and tried to hug him? Why? Why-what would possess him to do that? Damian stood up and away, suddenly struck with an emotion, one he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

Whatever it was, Damian shook it away as quickly as it had come.

Jackson must have taken this as signal that he was done being dried off, for as soon as he realized the exit to the bathroom had been cleared, the boy was waddling out the door. Naked as the day he'd been born.

And that, the thought of the boy actually being born, _that_ was an image Damian really didn't need to think about. Whether it was Grayson, perhaps some female equivalent of Todd or Todd himself, whomever the boy had been carried by, how it had happened and why, Damian decided he really, _really_ didn't want to know.

He did however; need to find the missing Grayson-Todd spawn. If he wasn't going to tolerate a dirty- Damian stopped himself, honestly, he wasn't going to say _nephew_ , that would be ridiculous- _child_ , he certainly wasn't going to tolerate a nude one either.

Grayson really owed him one for this.

* * *

Bruce Wayne had rushed back to Gotham as fast as he could. The phone call from Dick had been worrisome and Bruce hadn't hesitated his abrupt return from Hong Kong for a second. Panicked, Dick had sounded terrified. Usually the young man wasn't one to call him sounding so out of sorts over something that wasn't deadly serious.

And apparently, with Dick's incoherent ramblings and near hysteria, _this,_ Dick assured him _,_ was rather serious.

The call had been short and a bit garbled, but one thing came through loud and clear. Alfred, something was wrong with Alfred, that was about all Bruce caught before Dick awkwardly fell off, saying he needed him and to _hurry._ It had been years, probably over a decade since he'd heard those words from Dick Grayson. Dick had become so self-assured; an adult in his own right, but that phone call sounded like Dick was ten all over again.

Bruce remembered his guilt at involving Dick the previous day, sending the young man after Damian when he really should have done it himself. Alfred had informed him the boy had run off to stop a gang after specifically being told to let Tim handle Gotham while he was away. Typical Damian, not listening and doing whatever he wanted in the end, despite Bruce's insistence that he rest his injured leg. Dick had joked, as was usual, about Bruce never being able to cut the umbilical cord, but ultimately had ditched his date to help his family.

Bruce sighed at the thought. He'd been trying so hard to give Dick the independence he knew the young man craved, the space and conscious to know he was _allowed_ to live his own life. But no matter how hard he tried, it seemed, even in everyday situations, Batman and Robin needed Nightwing's intervention far too often. A fact Bruce was sore to admit, but Damian seemed more willing to listen to Dick than him anymore and that was _bothersome_ to say the least.

Upon nearing his home, Bruce was surprised and yet somehow not, to have Alfred Pennyworth, his trusted butler, father figure and confidant, waiting for him at the door.

His dark eyes were rebuking as Bruce came closer. "Master Bruce, you should have called, you know I don't like you driving home with strangers."

Paranoia had become a bit of a staple in all their lives, Bruce noted sadly, but the private ride had been the fastest way and Alfred-

"To be honest Alfred, I was under the impression you were a bit under the weather," Bruce replied, suddenly confused to see the older man standing, sounding a bit tired maybe, but otherwise Alfred appeared fine. "Dick said you were-"

As Bruce neared closer, he could see the man had rolled up his sleeves and lost his jacket. There were dark stains that looked like- Bruce's eyes widened at his butler, "Alfred, are you bleeding," he rushed the last few steps and grabbed the man's arms to investigate any injury, "What happened?"

Alfred's smile was small and stretched, a bit too thin. "Nothing with myself I'm glad to say, though I'm afraid we've had quite a bit of _activity_ in your absence, sir."

"I can see that," Bruce ushered the man inside, noting the way Alfred tutted at for doing so, demanding he take Bruce's coat before he entered. Bruce let him, only because he knew Alfred's strong belief in his duty wouldn't allow for anything otherwise. "Alfred what's-"

"Trust me sir, it's easier just to show you."

Bruce nodded him on and though he tried to prepare himself for the worst, what Alfred showed him was both confusing and eerie. Prone and lying with a sickly grey pallor was-Alfred Pennyworth?

Bruce turned back, to be sure, caution in his movements. He regarded the man who had answered the door with a searching glance.

Alfred raised a greying brow, "You sometimes did wish there were two of me, didn't you, sir?"

Bruce's brow furrowed, not really finding any humor in what he was seeing, "What's going on? Who is this?"

Alfred sighed, "As odd as this may be to hear, I believe it's-" he paused, "-me, sir. Another Alfred Pennyworth. Admittedly as Master Dick described and you can plainly see, the poor chap is a bit, as you said, under the weather."

"How?" Bruce asked studying the other man and finding that indeed, he did look exactly like Alfred Pennyworth. "Where did he come from?"

"That is the question we are trying to figure out, sir. Though it was-"

A smooth voice came from behind them. "I found him."

The tall silhouette of Jason Todd stood in the door. He seemed to appear from nowhere and Bruce's first instinct was to brace himself. He clenched his teeth and hated the reaction that came too easily. Jason seemed to notice his bristling with a brow raise and smirk. Despite the thought of a possible altercation never truly leaving his mind, Bruce remained as welcoming as he could. It had been far too long since he'd seen the young man as Jason Todd, not the vigilante or the Red Hood, just Jason.

It was nice.

"It's good to see you, Jason." He acknowledged with a nod. Jason didn't seem to take the greeting in at first, and it was hard to read his face, which was masked by the shadows seeping from behind him.

Bruce felt Alfred shift uncomfortably next to him when Jason didn't answer for a long time. Finally, Jason's body pulled forth as he came into the room, lifting the shadows as he replied, somewhat stiffly. "Bruce. Glad to see you could make it."

Bruce frowned, not at the rising flame of mockery in Jason's voice, but at the bandage covering a good portion of the young man's cheek, "Jason? What happened?"

Jason gave a half shrug, "Just an accident at work, you know how it is." he mimicked a knife across the bandage. "Nothing big."

"Aside from the cracked ribs and other fractures, of course," Alfred put in.

Bruce felt a pinch of worry at seeing the bandage and hearing the damage only further set in his fears, "Are you alright?"

"Could be worse," Jason answered somewhat flippantly, hand rising to his cheek all the same. "Trust me; the creep who did it isn't exactly sitting too pretty either."

"I believe I told you to go rest, Master Jason," Alfred scolded. "You need to keep up your strength."

Jason's eyes darkened, "And I told you I'm fine, Pennyworth. So lay off."

Bruce and Alfred shared a look at the outburst. Bruce cleared his throat to change the subject, motioning toward the other Alfred, "You said you found him?"

Alfred smiled, "Found him and even brought him here, sir. Thought it was me, of course, but the deed still remains the same."

Bruce raised a brow, "Is that true?"

It took a moment for Jason's eyes to leave Bruce's and when they did they flickered over to the sickly looking Alfred with a look of utter blankness. "It is."

A swell of what felt like pride washed over Bruce, "Jason, that was very-"

"Save it," Jason bit. "I'm not looking for a treat or a pat on the head," He continued to stare at the injured Alfred, his mouth twisted downwards. "Besides, I don't think it's going to make much of a difference, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

Jason's eyes were hard and even without words, his answer was obvious.

Bruce shared another look with Alfred.

"Master Jason, I think-"

"I wasn't aware you were paid to think," Jason suddenly snapped. Alfred's eyes were both hurt and shocked at the briskness and Jason immediately pulled back with a hurried, "Sorry Alfred, I didn't mean that-it's just-" he ran a hand through his hair. "It's been a hell of a day."

Bruce could see that Jason was tired, Alfred seemed exhausted as well. Poor man had probably been busy tending to his double and Jason and who knew whatever else in Bruce's absence. Jason and Alfred, they both needed a reprieve. If there was one thing Bruce could say about Jason, he was never one to do well without proper rest.

He nodded at Jason and couldn't stop a smile at the memories of a teenage Jason, cranky from lack of sleep and overloaded with hormones. Jason was quite the handful, always had been, "Alfred's right you really should go and-"

"Grayson!"

All three men stared at the direction the raised voice had come from. Bruce immediately recognized the bellow as his son's. He frowned, ready to scold the boy for refusing to use an indoor voice while he was in the house.

"Damian-" The words died in his throat.

"Grayson, come back here and get your-"

Damian stopped short at the sight of his father, just at the same time something slapped into Bruce's leg. His slacks were clenched around a fist and Bruce looked down into two sparkling eyes and a giant grin. He was rather shocked to see a small child peering up at him with a look of excitement, two arms raised at him expectantly, saying, "Up, up."

The most important thing to note, aside from the boy being slightly damp (or being there at all really), was that fact that he was strikingly and very unabashedly, nude.

Bruce was surprised beyond any words for a moment. He looked at Damian, brow raised in confusion.

"I-I can explain." Damian stammered.

Bruce looked down at the boy who was still demanding to be held and back at his son with a suddenly understanding that something much bigger was going on here.

"I certainly hope so," Bruce agreed. His eyes fell back down at the persistent tug on his pants, "but first, how about we find some clothes for our little friend here."

First the clothes, then the explanations. Between Alfred, Jason, and the boy at his knee, there were a lot of questions that needed answering.

Heaven help him for trying to take a few days away to deal with business. Bruce Wayne or Batman it didn't matter which, somewhere there was always some kind of crisis to be had.

Always.

Dick observed the man in the cell with a whistle, moving from side to side before finally squatting down to observe the limp form on the ground a bit closer, "What did Jason do to him?" The man's face was a deep onslaught of purple and blue and Dick couldn't help but wince at the sight. "Poor bastard didn't have a chance."

"Did you forget Jason's face?" Tim asked, a bit irritably. "And I'm pretty sure he didn't look that bad when we brought him in."

Dick looked from the man in the cell to Tim questionably, "You think Jason did this-after?"

"Took a few cheap shots?" Tim snorted. "Of course, he did. Probably to make himself look better. The guy threw him off the roof; he was probably more than a little pissed. I know I was."

Alright, so maybe Jason hadn't held back as much as Dick had thought. Dick nodded, but didn't verbally acknowledge his praise of Jason might have been a bit premature. He studied the face as best he could, but even underneath all the bruises, Dick still couldn't put a name to the prisoner.

Dark, slightly wild hair and a sharp chin hardly narrowed anything down. He seemed maybe around Dick's age, but definitely could have fit in with any other bat family member in the looks department.

"Trust me, even if it was a cheap move, the bastard deserves it," Tim mumbled, rubbing at his shoulder in remembrance. He studied the man with a frown, "Although ruining the vocals was still a bit of overkill if you ask me."

Dick shrugged, "We'll just have to find other ways to make him talk," he turned to Tim and smirked. "How's your signing?"

Tim sighed, "Aside from him having to know how to sign back, don't you think it would be easier just to give him something to write with."

"Always so practical," Dick mumbled. "Fine, find me something to-"

Dick jumped as two fists suddenly slammed into the glass in front of him causing the whole structure to shudder against the force. _Jesus_ , Dick felt the reverberation and flew a few good steps back at the attack. He really hoped Bruce had made this structure a bit sturdier than it looked, because that hit had all but rattled Dick's teeth. He stared into the deep blue eyes of anger and rage and for a moment there was an irrational fear that had him taking another step back, "Um, he's not going to get out of there, is he?"

"Let him try it," Tim said darkly. "I'll show him just what a face full of fist really tastes like."

"Whoa there Tim, let's not-"

Another fist slammed the glass.

Tim moved closer with a determined look. "I won't start anything if he doesn't."

The unknown man bared his teeth at them in response. He opened his mouth as if to speak but all that came out was a weak croak that sounded like trapped air trying to escape through a tiny hole. The man held his throat in what could have been pain, but looked more like anger. His eyes flew to Tim and then Dick, obviously infuriated. He hit the glass a third time, even more enraged.

"Sorry about that," Dick offered with hardly any sympathy. "Our friend can be a little-overzealous sometimes."

"I suppose that happens when you poison people and mess with their heads," Tim added with a cold smile.

The man shook his head, reaching up to grab at his hair before stopping and looking at his hands. Turning them over and over while studying them with a deep frown he finally looked up, eyes wide and confused. He looked at them again, before something seemed to hit him and he bent over as if in pain.

Dick barely stopped himself from moving forward to help him. The glass stood in the way of course, but it was still a natural instinct to try and aide someone who was obviously in agony. He bit his lip as he watched the man dig his palms into his forehead, trying no doubt to quench the sudden pain through grit teeth and a silent groan.

"Is he-"

"Could be an act," Tim said calmly, arms crossed and clearly unimpressed. "Trying to drop our defenses?" he asked to the prisoner. "You're going to have to try a bit better than that."

Dick nodded, half agreeing Tim was probably right, though to him, the pain etched on the flushed face looked pretty real. "Hell of an actor," he mumbled. Tim turned to him with an odd look, but Dick pointed him back to see the man had stopped and was now staring at them with bewilderment.

The man blinked several times, rubbed at his eyes, and seemed more irritated than before. Grabbing at his throat and mouthing words Dick couldn't hear, but knew were hardly g-rated, the irate and confused man began to pace. Either ignoring them or forgetting they were there, the man grabbed at his hair before finally turning back at them mouthing more words and growing frustrated at the lack of response.

"Um-" Dick tried-

"He wants to know why the," Tim coughed, "' _f'_ he's in there."

"Thanks for clarifying," Dick snickered. "But, I think you're old enough to say the word now, don't you?" he teased.

Tim rolled his blue eyes upward, "Fine, _fuck_ , he wants to know why the _fuck_ he's in there. Happy?"

"Honestly, Master Tim," Alfred's voice filtered through the cave reproachfully, coming as if summoned by the offensive word alone. "Such language."

Tim glared at Dick who held his hands in a _how was I supposed to know_ _he was there_ gesture.

"Has he said anything?"

Dick turned at the booming voice in his ear, surprised at the sudden appearance and almost smacking his face into Jason's. The younger man realized he was too close and took a step back, but before Dick could answer, Tim's glare moved to Jason and he snapped. "Is that supposed to be funny? You know he can't say _anything_ thanks to you."

"Is that your way of saying-" Jason mimicked Tim's voice, " _Thanks Jason. I don't know what I'd have done without you, you're the best._ Because if it is you might want to work on your approach."

"No, it's my way of saying-"

The glass slammed again. This time the vibration was so severe Dick didn't know how the wall didn't break. Wild and positively murderous, the blue eyes were on Jason-as if Jason were the only one there, watching him like a hawk. Hate seethed out of every pore, but alongside the hatred was-confusion?

"Looks like you have a fan," Tim noted.

Jason all but grinned at the man glaring at him, walking forward and crossing his arms arrogantly. "You know me," his eyes never strayed from the other man's as his mouth twitched. "Always making friends." He turned his head, "You get a name yet?"

Dick frowned at him, "We haven't exactly gotten that far, and" he looked at the way Jason cracked his knuckles, "I think his face is busted up enough already."

Jason pointed at the unknown man, "You do realize this guy attacked us right?"

"I'm aware, Jason. Despite what people say about me, I do have a brain."

Tim cut in, "Maybe if you'd been a bit more patient and hadn't jumped in at the first sign of-"

"Patient?" Jason asked eyes blazing as he flew towards Tim, fist clenched and suddenly angry. He stood inches away from the shorter man, teeth grit and back rigid, "After all this bastard did, you want to what, hold hands and make cookies while he goes and finishes the job he started?"

Tim's eyes narrowed, "I didn't say that."

"He attacked us," Jason gestured between himself and Tim. "He was trying to kill the old man and-" Jason shook his head, "-whatever. Forgive me if I'm not feeling all that patient right now,"

"We don't know that," Dick said.

Jason turned to him, "Don't know what? You think I don't know what I saw? Because I'm pretty sure that guy was the one responsible for almost killing a kid and an old man."

"I don't-" he felt like he was fumbling his words and the confused looks didn't help, "-it's, I just-" his eyes turned to Jason, "I'm not saying he's not dangerous, I just don't think we should hang him yet."

Jason stared at him darkly, "So you're okay with it then, even if he hurt Jackson or worse, you'd be okay with that? Some parent you are."

Dick wasn't sure what hurt more, the fact that Jason would say it so flippantly, like it was a joke, or that Jason would say it at all. His throat suddenly burned, both in anger and-

"Everything alright?" Bruce Wayne appeared behind them. Like a solid force, the father, the bat, Bruce was finally there. Dick was relieved, or at least he knew he should have been relieved. The truth was at that moment, the moment he should be leaping for joy at seeing Bruce, instead of the heaviness lifting at seeing the older man; all Dick felt was-sick. He couldn't explain why, but suddenly the walls felt like they were closing in and Dick had to escape.

 _Now._

"I-I just need some air," Dick breezed past a bewildered looking Bruce and Alfred. The butler reached out to him and Dick gave a smile, but shook his head. He continued out the cave, feeling every set of eyes on him and all but hearing the questions at his abrupt departure, questioning his sanity, no doubt.

He was almost out the front door when he felt the presence behind him. At first he really wanted to tell them to leave him alone, but he knew better, he knew it was useless to tell Jason to do anything. The man never listened to anyone, Dick included.

"What do you want, Jason?"

"I-" Jason looks at Dick with earnest. "I shouldn't have said that. About Jackson, I was out of line."

Dick didn't respond at first, but could still feel Jason's eyes on him. "It's weird, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled his hand through his hair realizing he still had some leftover cheese from Jackson on his shirt. He picked at it absently. "The two us having a kid together, I mean, who'd have thought, right?"

Jason gave a laugh that sounded a bit forced. "What do you mean?"

Dick looked up from his shirt, "Don't be an ass, Jason. You know what I mean."

Jason crossed his arms, "I'm not being an ass, I just don't get why it's so weird is all."

Dick stared at him, of all the rebuttals he'd expected, that was not it. "What?"

"I mean things happen right, you're not careful and along comes baby, it's hardly unheard of-"

Dick continued to blink, "Jason, what are you talking about?"

"All I'm saying is if you had to have a kid with someone-"

Dick gaped, hurriedly cutting him off, "I'm not having a kid with anyone, Jason."

"Well maybe not yet, but who knows," Jason lifted a shoulder easily. "I mean me and you, who's to say what could happen, right?"

Maybe Jason had hit harder on his fall than any of them thought. "Jason, are you feeling alright?"

Jason gives him an odd look, "Yeah, why?"

"It's just," Dick leaned closer to see if Jason's eyes were dilated or any other signs of a concussion. "You realize that we're both men right? That us having a kid could never actually happen."

"Yeah," Jason laughed as if Dick was making a joke. "Since when?"

"Since always."

Jason eyes shifted uncertainty, before a smirk, the smirk Dick had been waiting for and was half annoyed and yet oddly relieved to see, finally appeared. "You're too easy, you know that."

Dick gives a half strangled laugh, "Jesus Jason, that's really not funny."

"Whatever," Jason doesn't lose his smile. "Actually, the real reason I wanted to find you was this."

The item flashed in the light and Dick had to squint for a moment to see what it was.

"I found it on Jackson and it looks sentimental, but I've never seen it before and I thought maybe-"

Dick fingered the silver chain, studying it intently, a feeling of warmth and sorrow filling him all at once, "This was," he swallowed. "I lost this years ago, it was my father's." The long chain trailed through his fingers and he couldn't stop the grip on his heart at the thought of Johnathon Grayson and his untimely demise. It had been lost in a fight years ago, lost forever, Dick assumed.

He noticed a small round object strung through the loop. Dick looked closer. "Although I've never seen this before," he murmured. A ring, he certainly didn't remember his father having a ring on his chain.

Jason looked over and shrugged. "Beats me."

Dick was gentle and explorative with his touch. "I don't-"

 _-marry me-_

"What?" Dick asked, raising his head at the voice speaking at him. _Marry me_ , had he seriously just heard that? "What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything," Jason said with a frown.

Dick shook his head. Clearly, he needed more air than he thought. He handed the necklace back over with a sheepish smile, "Sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Jason's eyes fell away and for a moment neither man spoke, "Look, I know this is a bit, like you said, _weird_ , and even though Jackson isn't your," Jason swallowed, " _our_ son, he doesn't know that. Poor kid's obviously been through a lot, maybe we should, I don't know-"

"Play house together?" Dick laughed, though it really wasn't all that funny.

Jason almost seemed annoyed, "Is that really so far-fetched?"

"It's-" Dick stuttered. Hadn't Jason been the one joking about playing house before? Why was he getting offended now? "I don't- I didn't mean-"

"That boy thinks we're his parents," Jason reasoned. "It isn't his fault that any of this happened. If we act like he doesn't belong here it will only confuse and probably scare him. He needs you, Dick. He needs both of us."

"I-" Dick realized on some level Jason was being sensible and that thought, the idea that Jason Todd was being the mature one between them, was enough to scare Dick into considering what the other man was saying.

Something was shoved under his nose, "Here," Jason handed the necklace back to him. "I think you should have it. I think _he'd_ want you to have it." He paused as he stalled for a moment. "Look, just think about it, alright?"

Dick looked back, but Jason was gone. He sighed as his fingers grasped the necklace once more, this time with a feeling of sentimentality he hadn't felt in ages. He weighed the chain through his fingers and as he pocketed the object he wondered if Jason wasn't right.

Something bumped him from behind and a familiar gargled "Da" sounded as a small hand patted his leg. What surprised Dick wasn't that Jackson looked clean and freshly dressed; it was the bag of wrapped chocolates grasped in the toddler's hand. The boy tried to lift the bag, but ended up tossing it on the floor and pointing. "Coco," he said before looking up at Dick.

Dick looked down at the bag. "Coco?" he repeated in confusion. "Where did you even-"

Damian's exasperated snap cut him off, he looked winded and more than a little tired as he swept angrily into the room, "It's Pennyworth's secret stash. Apparently mini Todd here knew where it was. I suppose you would be the kind of father that gives his child candy to rot his teeth out."

Dick wanted to argue that Jackson only had a few visible teeth, but it hardly seemed worth it. "Weren't you supposed to be watching him?"

"Do I have the word babysitter written on my forehead?" Damian asked before he angrily stomped off. "He's your problem, you deal with him."

"Uncle Damian's very grumpy," Dick noted, sitting on the floor at Jackson's level and brushing the child's hair fondly. "Just what have you been doing to him?"

Jackson stared at him a moment as if trying to understand the question, before bending down to point at the bag, "Coco," he insisted.

Dick lifted a brow, "You honestly think I'm going to give you dessert when you didn't even finish your dinner?"

"Coco."

"Is that all you can say?" Dick grabbed at the bag and at seeing the look of excitement in Jackson's eyes he couldn't help a chuckle. "Chocolate fiend huh? Well I definitely know where you get that from." He looked around, wondering why he felt like a naughty child about to get caught when he was clearly the adult here. He tore open one side of the bag and pulled out two pieces, he unwrapped one and handed it to Jackson.

"I won't tell if you don't."

Dick took the other.

"I should really be in there dealing with the bad guy, you know." Dick said as he chewed. "But I think I like it better out here with you. It's quieter," Quieter and there were no wild crazed eyes looking at him, boring holes at them all. So wild and confused and yet, Dick sighed, "I wish you could tell us who he was. It would make things way easier if you could talk."

Jackson rubbed a small fist in his eye. He made a chirping sound in response before he purposely climbed into Dick's lap.

Dick wondered, as he let Jackson get comfortable and absently played with the child's hair after he did, just why it was that life had to be so cruel. Bruce, Jason, Tim, even poor Jackson, why were none of them allowed to have a _normal_ family?

Dick tried to put the thought from his mind; it had never bothered him before, had it? Why should it start now?

Certainly not because of the innocent child brought into all this by tragedy and death he didn't understand. Certainly not because Dick really didn't want Jackson to grow up with no parents, thrown in some home somewhere, unloved and unwanted, another name in the system.

And most of all, it certainly wasn't because Dick was becoming in any way shape or form _attached_ to Jackson.

 _That_ Dick knew for sure.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

"What do you think?"

Jason looked around, curiously and with a small frown, he came away with one observation, "It's kind of small, isn't it?"

The nice little apartment _was_ small, but it was also modest, well kept, and for just them, it seemed perfect.

Or so Dick had thought.

His shoulders dropped a little at the reaction, "Well everything is small when you compare it to Wayne Manor, Jason."

Jason noticed his deflation and gave a small smile. "Oh don't get all pouty on me," Jason teased, grabbing him and pulling him close for a quick kiss. "I-I don't hate it, that's something, isn't it?"

"I'd rather you said you love it," Dick countered.

Jason looked around again till his blue eyes landed back on the man in his arms, "I love you, that's something, isn't it?"

Dick rolled his eyes and hit him playfully, but he didn't disagree. He pulled away and started in on one of the many boxes that needed unpacking.

"Red Robin and Nightwing, partners in the sky and in bed, what a headline we'll make," Jason snickered.

Dick pulled off the tape from the first box with a hum, "Bruce sent over a housewarming basket."

Jason's brow rose, "Bruce did?" he asked. "Somehow I just don't see that."

"Okay," Dick corrected, shuffling through some old records that must have belonged to Jason, "I guess I should say _Alfred_ sent over a housewarming basket."

"Housewarming basket, what are we seventy? What the hell do we need with fruit and cheese and crackers anyway?"

Dick shrugged, "There's some wine in there too."

"Now _that_ I think we can use," Jason's eyes fell on all the boxes around them, but stayed on one box in particular as he cringed. "Do you seriously have to keep that creepy clown circus shit?"

Dick frowned, "It's not creepy, it's sentimental," he held up a picture of something he couldn't make out, but was almost too hideous for words. "It's no worse than-whatever this is."

Jason snorted, "Whatever you say Dickie, but I'm not sleeping under any clown masks or anything." He all but shivered at the idea. "I mean it."

"Well I had planned on lining our bedroom with nothing but clowns, but if it bothers you so much I suppose I can rethink it."

"You're lucky you're cute, because that was seriously not funny."

Two arms wrapped around him from behind and Dick choked at the feeling of Jason's mouth against his earlobe. "That tickles." He gasped at the cool tongue dipping down the side of his neck, right at the discolored patch Jason could never get enough of. "Stop it-you know I hate that."

"Never," Jason hissed and continued to lick and kiss the mark while Dick squirmed to get away.

"Sometimes I swear that stupid thing is the only reason you're with me," Dick pouted.

"As if," Jason snorted. "You really think I care about if you can have kids or not? Who says I even want kids. I'm only with you because you're hot and don't forget that," he joked.

"You know plenty of guys would love to be with someone like me. But-you seriously don't want kids?" Dick asked. Even though it seemed like a topic that should have been brought up before, considering his condition, they'd never really discussed it.

Jason stilled and looked back at him, brows pinched as he considered the question. He finally moved his shoulder upward, "I don't know, do you?"

Dick shrugged back, "I don't know, maybe someday." He shook his head, "Definitely not now though."

Jason shrugged, "Then why are we even worrying about it?" He attached himself back to Dick's neck again with fervor.

"Because we need to be care-" Dick tried to stay strong, but it wasn't easy with Jason's heat filling all his senses. "Seriously Jay, you know I-" Dick squirmed some more, but the slightly larger man held fast. He tried not to smile and give himself away, but he couldn't help it. "Jay seriously, this isn't fair."

"Fair? What's not fair is you, sitting there looking so," Jason's mouth moved to Dick's lips, and he pecked the plump flesh softly, "delicious."

"Yeah, sweaty and dirty from moving all these boxes, so delicious," Dick can't help but roll his eyes. He was a mess, they both were.

"You're right," Jason agreed, "Maybe it's time to test the shower out, see how well the water pressure works." Of course he had to grind his balls into Dick as he said it.

"Water pressure my ass," Dick murmured as Jason grinned and smacked their lips together.

As nice as Jason's sturdy body felt, Dick couldn't help but look at the mountain of boxes surrounding them with a frown. "You don't even want to unpack first?"

"Shower, the boxes aren't going anywhere," Jason insisted, grabbing Dick and pulling him towards the bathroom like his pants were on fire.

Dick followed because-when did he ever say no when Jason was like this? When did he ever _want_ to say no?

Through it all Dick was both watching and living a reality he knew wasn't real yet despite what felt more real than anything he'd experienced in ages. He felt real, his thoughts, Jason, the kisses, the touches, the heat from the shower, Dick could feel, see and taste it all-

-until the scene faded into darkness and he opened his eyes.

Dick's first thought as he sat up, wide eyed and panting in the darkness was-

-What the hell? What the hell had he just-what the hell was _any_ of that?

Was that a-was that a dream?

A soft noise stopped him from moving any further as he realized there was a small bundle cuddled up beside him, or rather-almost on top of him. He looked down and noticed he wasn't alone.

Jackson, he'd been, Jesus he'd been putting the kid down after he'd fallen asleep in his lap. When had he-Dick didn't even remember laying down much less falling asleep. He must have been more tired than he'd thought.

Dick thought about going back to sleep, but try as he might, especially after that, whatever that weird dream- _thing_ had been, he knew that was going to be impossible. He laid quietly in the dark for what felt like hours, but could have been minutes. His mind refused to quiet his rapidly beating heart, he'd felt, it had all felt so _real_.

Jason and him, it had felt so natural and-

-right.

Jesus, Dick needed to get up, needed to get some air before his brain imploded in on itself. He slowly climbed off the bed, carefully making sure to put Jackson in a position where he couldn't roll off the bed, just as he heard footsteps outside his room. Figuring it was Alfred he wrenched open the door-

-and came face to face with Jason Todd.

The other man gave him a tired looking smile with a few too many lines in it.

"Oh-I-um," Dick stumbled, feeling really stupid that he was suddenly fumbling like a moron, but really after a dream like that, who wouldn't be?

"I was just gonna check in," Jason explained. "Alfred set up my old room." The room right next to Dick's. He paused as he studied Dick before asking, "Are you okay, you look like you've just run five miles uphill."

"I'm fine," Dick assured, or rather lied as his heart was still very much pounding. "I just-I can't really sleep but I've got Jackson in there and I don't really want to wake him up or leave him alone so I thought I'd-I'd-" Dick honestly had no clue _what_ he thought he was going to do.

Jason smiled at his rambling, before cutting him off, "The joys of parenthood, right?"

Dick only fumbled more and Jason gave a small, almost amused sounding sigh, "I can stay with him, if you want."

"You-" Dick was shocked at the idea, though maybe he shouldn't have been. So far Jason had proven himself the most at ease with Jackson. Which was more than a little odd. He'd never put Jason as a kid person, but maybe he was. "You'd do that?"

Jason shrugged, "Sure, I don't mind."

Dick only hesitated a moment, knowing if he thought on it for too long he might find a reason to say no and then he was never going to be able to leave. "Okay, cool. Thanks."

He wasn't sure if he was imagining things or if maybe the dream had put the idea in his head, but Dick swore he could feel the heat of Jason's gaze on him long after he'd left.

* * *

The boy, Jackson, he reminded he himself. Jackson was-

He swallowed, the guilt and hurt stabbing him like a knife. Bringing a burn to his throat and eyes he refused to acknowledge.

There was so much pain, but as he reached out and tentatively touched him.

Jackson's hair was softer than a kitten's and fell like silk through his fingers. His skin was so smooth and pale.

Truthfully, he didn't care for children, but this one was different.

This one would be his.

Agony, his eyes burned with it, the deep sting of something he couldn't acknowledge for risk of falling apart, for risk of destroying everything-yet again.

"You're an idiot," the voice said coldly. "How long can you possibly keep this up? You think they won't notice, you think _he_ won't notice?"

How long, he wondered?

How long _could_ he do this?

The answer was immediate, almost foolishly so.

As long as he needed to.

For him he'd wait forever.

* * *

Dick heard the clacking from the computer long before he saw the form sat before the massive screen. It was almost midnight and though Dick's eyes burned, he was far too restless to sleep. Funny that even after a ten hour ride on what was no doubt the fastest jet available; Bruce Wayne hardly looked like he'd ever left the cave in the first place. The man's face was solemn, yet pensive, and of course, he knew it was Dick long before he addressed him.

"Isn't it a little past your bedtime?" Bruce asked, voice echoing in the stillness of the cave. It was a joke and it fell flat at the severity in the man's tone as all his attention was focused on the screen with the care of a doctor performing brain surgery.

Dick stretched, feeling more than a few cracks as he chuckled, "I haven't had a bedtime for years, Bruce."

Bruce hummed, "From what I recall, you always saw a bedtime more as a suggestion than a rule anyway."

Dick shrugged with a light smile, "You know how kids are."

"Speaking of kids," Bruce turned his chair around to face him and Dick wasn't sure he was ready for the intensity in the man's blue eyes as he asked, "How are you holding up?"

Dick pulled in closer. For a moment he didn't respond, crossing his arms and watching the screen alongside the older man. Bruce was looking at some blood work and the numbers found in the data flashed as DNA strands manipulated themselves on the screen. He finally shrugged, "About as well as I could be-considering." He toed the ground with his shoe and hated himself for asking, but he had to, "Any chance Tim was wrong about it."

He can't see Bruce's frown, but he can hear it, "I've gone over it. This child is definitely Dick Grayson and Jason Todd's."

Dick nodded, he knew that, of course, he did. Still, he clicked his tongue and toyed with the ends of his shirt, feeling nervous for some reason. "I feel bad, you know."

"Bad?" Bruce asked, whirling his chair to the side to look at him.

"I-I really wanted it to be wrong, I really wanted-dammit Bruce I'm like the worst person on the planet. Do I look like parenting material to you? Just yesterday I was on a date with a Gotham State cheerleader and now some version of me's kid decides to show up. How do I explain that to her?" Never mind the Jason part-that was a whole can of worms in itself. "How do I explain that to _anyone_? I wanted him to be somebody, anybody else's. I just-I really am terrible, aren't I? I wanted some poor kid to have different parents because it makes me feel-"

"Uncomfortable?"

Dick shrugged, "I guess. I don't know. I just feel like a jackass. He's so young and I-"

"Have no idea what you're doing?"

Dick frowned, "Okay, you have to stop doing that."

Bruce's mouth ticked upward, not quite a smile, but close, "I'm only saying it because I understand, Dick."

Dick blinked at him. "What?"

This time Bruce did smile, "You're not the first one to have a child you didn't know existed thrown in your lap."

Oh right. Damian.

Dick remembered the first time he'd been introduced to Damian al Ghul, or rather the end of Damian's sword. Not a pleasant introduction or memory to say the least. A much different start than with Jackson definitely, but Dick could see what Bruce meant. He did understand, probably more than anyone else Dick knew. He understood and that made Dick feel a little better.

"Damian told me there's a high possibility the boy's parents are dead."

Dick nodded, "That's what Al said. I don't know what happened exactly and he was really out of it, but something or someone brought them here and-" Dick glanced back, realizing he'd not checked on the prisoner in a while. "Apparently, he's the culprit."

The unknown man was lying on the floor again, his chest was moving softly so he was obviously sleeping, but his hands were now tied.

Bruce's eyes moved back toward the cell and he sighed, "I'm afraid I had to sedate him to get some DNA. He was near hysterical and tried to escape." His brows pinched, "I don't know what happened to this man, but he's obviously had some kind of mental trauma."

"Apparently, he threw Jason and himself off a building; maybe he hit his head or something?" Dick guessed.

"That's what Tim said, but," Bruce looked unsure, "that doesn't explained the bruised larynx."

Dick winced, " _That_ we can blame on Jason."

Bruce nodded, but didn't look pleased.

"Where is Tim?" Dick asked, surprised the younger boy wasn't here helping Bruce.

"I told him to go home, Barbara was getting worried and I told them we'd continue this tomorrow. It'll do no good trying to unravel this if everyone's dead on their feet." Bruce looked at Dick pointedly.

"Says the man who's got to have jet lag from hell," Dick countered. There was no way, Batman or not, Bruce wasn't feeling the effects of time zone hopping at least a little bit. "Admit it, you want to figure this out on your own, don't you? Hog all the glory, as usual," Dick teased.

Bruce neither admitted nor denied this statement.

"And I'm an adult remember?" Dick said over a smirk, "I can do what I want."

"And the boy-"

"Jackson," Dick corrected. "He's with Jason."

Bruce's look wasn't entirely displeased, simply questioning, "Jason?" he asked, like he couldn't quite believe it, "You left him with Jason?"

Dick had to swallow away his immediate thought at Jason's name, he refused to give his crazed and obviously stress induced dream anymore thought. "As weird as this may sound, I don't think Jackson could be in safer hands," Dick admitted, a bit awkwardly. "Jason really seems to like him and I'm willing to bet out of everyone in this house, Jackson's the only one who doesn't have to be on eggshells. Jason's not going to hurt him." _That_ Dick knew for sure.

Bruce steepled his finger together as he contemplated, "I'm not sure if I should be worried or thankful for that."

Dick bit his lip and shrugged. Bruce took the words right out of his mouth. "So, um since it looks like this might be for a little while with Jackson and all-" Dick picked at his fingernails for a moment, "you got any kind of advice, or whatever?"

Bruce's dark brow rose in amusement, "I think advice might be more Alfred's expertise, not mine."

Dick exhaled in exasperation, "Come on Bruce, I know that fatherly instinct is in you somewhere. I," he swallowed unsurely, "I've thought about kids sure, someday, but-" He mused his hair trying hard not to think about the dream, "-I can't say I'm feeling all that _parenty_ , if you know what I mean."

Bruce leaned back and observed him before answering, "The truth is we never know what will happen to us Dick, sometimes we just have to deal with what's given to us and make the best of it."

Dick crossed his arms, "That's good Bruce, but I'm pretty sure that was from a movie."

"Was it?" Bruce asked with a shrug, but it was obvious he was hiding a smile. "You want advice, keep him away from sharp objects, electrical outlets and stairs."

Dick rolled his eyes, "You're a regular parenting guru, Bruce Wayne, you know that?" He motioned to the screen. "So what are the results then? Who's our unlucky guy?"

"Oddly enough, he's a cop," Bruce replied. "A good one at that, Andrew Sullivan."

Dick stared at him, "A cop? You mean a cop did all this?"

"If Jason has the right person then it would appear so," Bruce sounded incredibly doubtful and Dick didn't blame him.

"You don't think he did it, do you?"

Bruce massaged his brow with a sigh, "I tried to pull up the footage from the fight, but the cameras seemed to have short circuited and the video is almost unusable. Maybe Jason was confused, as you said they both did suffer quite a fall."

Dick crossed his arms, "So you think he's still out there? The man who really did this?"

"Or there's some wayward cop with a vendetta against us, or rather the other worlds version of us, which according to Tim's description of what he remembers of the culprit seems-unlikely."

Dick scratched at his elbow, "What _was_ Tim's description of him exactly?" He hadn't asked Tim yet, though he probably should have.

"He sounds exactly like Todd," Damian's voice came from up above as the boy somersaulted down and landed in front of them.

Instead of seeming impressed, Bruce set his teeth. It's obvious he wanted to rebuke his son for spying, but how could he when he was the one who taught him to do it in the first place. A double edged sword this old bat life of theirs.

"What do you mean?" Dick asked, before he caught Damian's meaning. "You think Jason had something to do with this?"

Damian gave a half shrug that could have meant anything, his eyes zeroed in on Dick's neck, "Where did you get that?"

"Huh?" Dick looked down and realized he must have put on the necklace. He didn't remember doing so, but he didn't remember falling asleep either. Apparently, there were a lot of things he didn't remember doing. "It's-someone gave it to me."

Damian sniffed at it, but didn't comment further.

Dick went back to the much more important topic, "But you think Jason did this-"

"I'm not putting it past him."

"But he and Tim-"

"Drake was gassed, he doesn't really know what he saw."

Dick blinked because honestly, he had no argument for that. Still, what would Jason get by pretending all this and the attack on the GCPD, Jason had been _here_ when it happened. Either way, the idea made little sense.

"Todd has friends," Damian pointed out, even though Dick didn't argue. His disbelief of Jason's possible involvement must have been written on his face.

"We don't know anything yet," Bruce answered for Dick. It was obvious he wasn't trying to think the worst of Jason just yet, "I'll ask Jason about it further in the morning."

Just then, Alfred, their Alfred, came down the stairs, carrying, or rather half struggling with, his unconscious self.

Dick jumped as soon as he saw him, sweeping in to help the butler with his burden, "Jesus Al, you could have asked for some help." He pulled the other arm of what was essential dead weight and helped hoist the man on the stretcher Bruce had prepared.

"I was under the impression you were asleep Master Dick," Alfred said, only slightly out of breath.

"It's a good thing I wasn't," Dick scowled. "What is it with no one in his house wanting to ask for help?" Except him apparently, he'd all begged Bruce to come home, but now that he thought about it Bruce had asked him to get Damian-so maybe he was just shooting steam out of his ass and mad that Alfred had all but drug _himself_ down all those stairs and not bothered to tell anyone.

The principal still stood though.

They all watched the unconscious man who was thankfully still breathing, if not incredibly shallowly.

Bruce considered the sleeping man, it was obvious by the pinch in his eyes it was hard for him to watch, as it had been for Dick earlier, "We should run some tests, see how his brain function is and check all his other vitals too."

Dick cracked his neck, "Cool, I'm game." Anything to get some answers finally rolling. He moved over to Alfred and asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"Dick," Bruce said slowly, "I really think you should go and get some sleep, it's been a long day and-"

"Not tired," Dick waved back, "Besides I already took a little nap," A nap with a dream he was so desperately trying to forget, "But you could go take a break, you know. I'm sure sitting on a plane for ten hours has to be hell on your-"

"I'm fine, Dick. Alfred and I can deal with-" he stopped somewhat awkwardly, "Alfred."

"What about-"

Bruce pointed back toward the stairs, cutting Damian off, "You are going to bed, you're still healing and I can't have you off your game right now, understand?"

Damian narrowed his eyes, but did as his father commanded, with surprisingly no real argument whatsoever.

"So," Dick said with a grin, because it felt easier to deal with this in his normal face of humor than the deep worry for his sanity that was slowly bubbling underneath. "Since I'm fine, you're fine, we're all fine, let me keep you both company. I know how depressing this place can be sometimes and it'll give us a chance to chat." Bruce eyed him pointedly. Dick held his hands, "Or we could just sit here in silence while you both work, that's fine too."

Dick pulled up a chair and played around on the other computer, but didn't say anything further. Alfred seemed far too engrossed with his other self and Bruce seemed even more determined to both crack the apparent vengeful cop debacle and help Alfred as well. Dick sat and waited while Bruce and to a lesser extent Alfred worked long into the morning.

* * *

Jason wasn't sure where he was or how he'd gotten here, all he knew was he wanted out.

What had happened? Why was there some bastard running around with his face? It was his face, wasn't it? Jason was pretty sure it was supposed to be _his_ face anyway.

Everything felt numb, his eyes, his brain, someone had given him something and he couldn't open his eyes. He didn't know what was going on, all he could feel was the sharp pain behind his eyes that refused to open.

As Jason drifted off in a drug induced sleep he dreamt of giant blue eyes and small hands, of a bright, white smile and soft ebony locks. He dreamed of two people, one larger, one smaller, both similar and yet not. He dreamt of them both happy and smiling, but dammit if he could remember either of their names.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

* * *

"I hate that costume, you know."

Jason stared at him, or rather Dick assumed he was staring at him behind that creepy red mask. Every since he'd adopted this new Red Hood identity, something seemed different about Jason, something that made Dick a bit uneasy. He enjoyed seeing Jason's face and having it blocked like that really threw him off. It made Jason seem darker, more closed off and seeing that wall of red made Dick feel a little out of sorts.

Not that Jason was the only reason for him feeling out of sorts, but Dick wasn't willing to voice any of that until he knew for certain. One word and he knew Jason would be on him in a second, asking, pushing, demanding an answer and Dick wasn't ready for that.

Jason's shoulder lifted, "I needed a change."

Dick rolled over on the bed to face the standing man, ignoring the slight churn in his stomach as he pondered Jason's answer. What if that wasn't the only change Jason was looking for? Dick might be feeling a bit paranoid, but truthfully he was feeling so many other things right now and as much as trusted Jason, he just-

Something didn't feel right. It was mostly with him, Dick knew that, and as soon as Jason left he could either confirm or disprove what he thought it just might be.

"Dick, are you okay?"

Dick swallowed and had to look away, burying himself back into the pillow and covers like a cocoon. Of course Jason would have to ask that. Dick's heart was beating too fast and his stomach felt like a liquid pit and he swore he might be sick right there if Jason asked him that again. "Just tired," he mumbled into the cotton fabric.

"You sick?"

If only Jason knew.

"No, just tired," Dick swallowed against the lie a bit shakily. "Shouldn't you be going?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"What, you trying to get rid of me now?"

Dick shook his head while his mind secretly screamed _yes_ , for the love of god, yes. He needed Jason out and he needed him out _now_.

A gloved hand touched the back of Dick's head gently. "You still look good even when you look like death, you know that?"

"Such flattery," Dick grumbled. Did he honestly look that bad? He certainly felt it.

Jason snickered, "Seriously, it's actually the reason I married you."

"Really? I thought you married me for my cooking skills?"

"I don't think popping the lid off a can really qualifies as cooking, Dick," Jason replied. They both knew of the two of them, Jason was the much better cook. Not that Dick was able to enjoy the idea of Jason's cuisine so much at the moment. "You do look cute in an apron, though."

Dick rolled his eyes, but couldn't help a smile, "You better hurry, you promised Tim you'd help him on his first patrol, remember?" Tim's first patrol as _not_ Robin, but Red Robin-Jason's old identity.

"Yeah, yeah, me and my weeping heart. I swear I should get a purple heart for the shit I do for these kids."

"It's called being a good brother. Now go, before I push you out the window myself."

"Whatever," Jason grumbled, "Keep the bed warm, yeah? At least give me something to look forward to when I get back."

Dick turned his head, but Jason was gone.

Finally.

Dick threw off the covers and raced for the bathroom. After two days of trying to hide it, running the shower or sink in hopes that Jason couldn't hear him, Dick was glad he could finally be sick in peace. Unfortunately, even though his stomach was now empty and that was finally off his mind, there was still the second, much bigger issue to contend with.

Where was it?

His fingers fumbled as he scrambled, pulling out drawer after drawer while cursing under his breath.

Where the _hell_ was it?

Dick's hands scraped the bottom of the last drawer, until he finally found it. His heart raced as he ripped at the package, not quite sure if he felt more worried or relieved, only that his hands wouldn't stop shaking-

He had three minutes to ponder a reaction, to ponder the reality of whether he or Jason would even be ready for this, three minutes that felt more like three hours.

Sitting back on the bed he wondered when the world decided to shift, turning dark and enveloping the room into a tunnel that seemed to suck all the air out of him. His eyes grew heavy as his body fell, right in between two arms.

The familiar warmth made him smile and he murmured the other man's name, glad Jason was back. He certainly hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he'd just been so tired and now he could tell Jason that everything was alright because he wasn't-

-was he?

Dick's eyes shot open.

 _Shit,_ had he even looked? He must have, but for the life of him he couldn't remember.

His mind raced as he tried to recall, had it been a yes or a no?

Crap.

He couldn't remember. Why couldn't he-Dick's mind was suddenly swimming as reality seemed to right itself. What was the question again? He mentally fought as he tried to keep the scenario from fading away, but he couldn't stop it. Whatever had been so important was suddenly gone and he was-

"Morning."

The male voice was groggy and deep, it was too close and with the sudden realization of arms around him, Dick didn't hesitate. The hit was immediate and solid and Dick heard the wheeze right before he propelled the other body off of him in a single toss. Flipping over and landing in a tangle of sheets he trapped the other person to the floor, thighs on either side of the man's neck in a vice like grip.

It took a minute of staring into tired blue eyes before Dick realized what he was doing.

"Jason, what the hell?"

"I think that's my line, don't you?"

"I don't-" Dick looked around the room for some sense of just what in the hell was going on. He tried to remember but everything was pretty much blank. "How did you get in here? Why were you, why were we-"

"As kinky as this is, do you mind-"

Realizing the position he'd put them in, Dick immediately jumped off. Normally he'd have made a crack at it, they both would have, teasing and goading each other like they did, but something about the idea at that moment felt wrong. To be honest, the whole thing felt wrong. Jason being here, his arms around him-

"Why were you doing that?" Dick asked more to keep his mind from wandering to an idea that he'd somehow let Jason hold him like that. "Why are you here?"

"Why am I-" Jason blinked in confusion, "-I was with Jackson," he reminded. "You were the one who wanted me to stay."

All Dick heard was Jackson. Dick's head whipped back to the empty bed, "Where is Jackson?"

"He's right-" Jason pointed at the empty bed with a frown. His face went from slightly annoyed to much more erratic, "What the hell? Where is he?"

There was a slight panic in Jason's voice that threw Dick completely off guard. "Calm down, he has to be somewhere around here."

Jason was suddenly angry, "What if someone took him?"

Dick raised a hand, "Stop shouting, you're gonna wake the whole house." Jason's fear seemed justified given everything that had happened, but freaking out was hardly going to help anything, "Maybe he just went-" Dick gestured at the closed door before realizing what he was saying.

"I don't think he can open doors," Jason said.

With the way things were going, Dick wasn't so sure about anything anymore. Not that Jackson was tall enough to open the door, but hell if weirder things didn't seem to be happening.

"Last I saw him he was asleep. He was right there," Jason pointed at the right side of the bed.

Dick frowned, "And now he's not."

Jason sighed and pushed a hand through his scruffy hair. He paced in anger, but at least he wasn't yelling or ripping the room apart.

Something chirped from under the bed.

Dick dropped to his knees and pulled back the bed skirt. He heard the sleepy murmur of a word he didn't quite catch as two blue eyes blinked at him over a mostly toothless grin.

Dick returned the smile, "Hey you, what are you doing under there?" He pulled Jackson out while the boy laughed and tried to get away.

Clearly it was some kind of game.

Dick let the boy crawl under the bed again. Jackson giggled and Dick couldn't help another smile at the sound.

Jackson tried to hide again, but this time Dick pulled him completely out and after another fit of laughter, Dick finally managed to get the flailing boy on the bed. Dick noticed some kind of toy in the boy's grasp that Jackson handed over to him.

What the-Dick blinked to make sure he was seeing it right. "Where did he get this?"

Jason looked from the stuffed animal then back to Dick, "Don't know, maybe it was under the bed? Why, is it a problem?"

"No, no, it's fine, he can have him," The stuffed lion was sentimental, sure, one of the few possessions he'd kept from before the manor, but Dick had long since outgrown the toy and Jackson was more than welcome to him.

"What then?" Jason asked. "You look kind of pale."

Dick shook his head. He was fine. It wasn't anything to do with Jackson, Dick was just-

 _"Seriously, stuffed animals? What are you five?"_

 _Jason on a bed observing the toy with a teasing smirk. Dick reaching for it with a scowl._

The image was fuzzy, like a staticy television trying to find reception.

 _"Stop being an ass, Jason. Give him back."_

 _Jason holding the animal out with a grin, "You want him? Come and get him."_

 _Dick grinning back, right before he pounces and pushes Jason on his back. Right before he snatches the object from Jason's hand and traps Jason's arms over his head-_

"Everything alright in there?"

Dick blinked and the image was gone. He wasn't sure if he gasped, but he felt like he'd stopped breathing for a moment.

What the flying hell?

"Dick," the voice called out again. "Are you alright?"

Dick called back a bit shakily, "I'm fine, Barb."

When Barbara Gordon had arrived at the manor Dick didn't know, but it was obvious by the confusion in her voice she didn't believe him. "You sure? I thought I heard raised voices."

Jason opened his mouth, but Dick refused to let him speak. "It was just me; I was just talking to myself."

Jason crinkled his brow, but Dick gave him a silencing glare and head shake that clearly said, _keep your mouth shut_.

"I thought I heard someone else, it almost sounded like Jason. Is he in there too?"

"Nope, just me," Dick quickly assured. "Sorry if I was a little loud."

"Okay," Barbara wasn't an idiot and she hardly sounded convinced. "Well Alfred has breakfast ready, just thought you'd like to know."

"Okay thanks."

"No problem, I'm going to go tell Jason then, see if he's up yet."

Jason crossed his arms, his lip moved up in amusement.

Dick bit his lip, "Um yeah, go ahead. I have a feeling he might be out training or something though."

"Okay, I'm still going to try though, I know how much he likes French toast," Barbara paused for a moment and Dick almost thought she'd left until she suddenly continued, "right, Jason?"

"Barb, he's not-"

"Thanks Barb, we'll be right there," Jason called over Dick.

Dick scowled, both at Jason and the humor that could be heard in Barbara's voice as she left back down the hallway, "I'll let them know you're both coming then," she called back.

Once he was sure she was gone, Dick clenched his fist and whirled on Jason, "What the hell was that?" Now there were going to be the questions of just what Dick and Jason were doing behind a closed door all night. A question Dick didn't even know himself.

"What? So we stayed the night together? Nothing happened." Jason reasoned.

Dick put a hand to his forehead and massaged it, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm going to take a shower. Will you take him with you? He's probably hungry."

Jason scooped Jackson and his new toy up. Giving an unreadable look, he asked, "Are you alright?"

Dick nodded, "I'm fine just-" he tried to smile, but felt it was a bit flat, "-ever have those days where you feel you're going crazy?"

Jason stared at him for a moment while Jackson fiddled with the lion. Jason's eyes finally went to the necklace on Dick's neck and he sighed, "Sometimes, but trust me Dick, you're not crazy." Jason's blue eyes were almost green in their intensity, but they looked more concerned than hostile. "You're not crazy," he repeated.

Dick watched him leave and couldn't help feeling the exact opposite to be true.

Dick had a headache and it wasn't even noon yet. He'd been having weird flashes of things he couldn't explain and now Jason was-

- _God_ what was Jason exactly?

Either something really weird was going on-

-or Dick really was going crazy.

* * *

"At this rate you really will drive him crazy," the voice said, neither disapproval nor approval in its tone.

"He'll be fine," he whispered back, eyes darting behind and forward to make sure he wouldn't be overheard.

"I would never hurt him."

Not willingly.

If it could have, the voice would have crossed its arms, "Right, so instead you scramble his brain, and what? Play with the vegetable that's left over?"

"It won't be like that." The last thing he wanted to do was completely destroy Dick. Just the opposite, in fact.

He wasn't here to destroy, he was going to rebuild.

The voice laughed, causing him to grit his teeth.

Jackson moved on his hip. The boy was shifting and whining saying _da da_ over and over again while pushing against him as if to escape.

It was irritating.

"Enough."

At the words Jackson blinked at him. He might have been louder than he meant to be. Jackson seemed to lose steam, realizing he wasn't putting him down and the boy went to pouting and murmuring his woes to his stuffed lion.

The voice gave what might have been somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "At this rate, you'll ruin everything in no time flat."

He hated to admit it, but the voice was right.

He had to be more patient, more controlled, more careful from now on.

Think like him, act like him, wear and eat the same things.

 _French toast._

He held in a groan.

It wasn't that he didn't like French toast-

-he absolutely _hated_ it.

* * *

Dick arrived in the dining room after he'd taken sometime to clear his head. The cold shower had helped somewhat, but not nearly as much as he'd hoped. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to worry so he made his arrival, hoping to be only fashionably late.

He got a few mellow Good Mornings, but no one was looking at him oddly or rebuking, so Dick figured Barbara hadn't announced her earlier findings to anyone. Which probably would have relieved him, except now Dick knew Barbara would be cornering him when he was alone.

Goody.

Jackson was steadying himself on her wheelchair and now it was Barbara's turn to be completely fascinated by the boy, studying him and making comments to Tim beside her. In turn, Jackson seemed fascinated by Barbara's wheelchair, reaching out to touch it with wide eyes, acting as if he'd never seen one before.

Was it possible in the world Jackson came from, Barbara had never been injured? A somewhat bittersweet thought, but a distinct possibility. Who knew what kind of lives their other selves had lived? Apparently the other Dick Grayson and Jason Todd were-

The necklace around Dick's neck suddenly felt very heavy.

 _Married._

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder causing Dick to blink and turn to the slightly concerned face of Bruce Wayne. "Everything alright?" the taller man asked softly.

"Yeah, of course," Dick cleared his throat. "Did you find any new information on the attacker or the other Alfred?"

Bruce's eyes were heavy, "Eat first; we'll talk about it later." He gave a slight squeeze before letting go of Dick's shoulder and continuing out of the room.

Bruce's face was lined and it was obviously he hadn't slept yet. Which only made Dick more ashamed that he'd somehow gone to bed, spooning with Jason on top of it, instead of helping out like he should have been.

"Well look who's the last little birdie to get the worm?" Barbara's blue eyes were teasing as they landed on Dick. Her signature red locks were pulled back and even though she was dressed casually, somehow Barbara Gordon never could quite turn off the look of a professional, confident woman. She turned in her chair and poked Jackson's arm while the little boy giggled. "Little guy's been keeping himself busy, haven't you sweetheart?"

Jackson's response was to run at Dick and latch onto his hand. He seemed intent on showing Dick what he'd found and once Dick realized what it was, he couldn't help being slightly embarrassed that Jackson's newest interest was indeed Barbara's wheelchair. The boy pointed at it and Dick immediately lowered Jackson's arm. "Yeah bud, let's not point at that. Okay?"

"Oh come on Dick, he's not hurting anything. I think he happens to find me and my ride pretty awesome," Barbara smiled at Jackson. "Don't you?"

Jackson set his little lion to sit on Barbara's lap, "Kitty Baba."

Barbara's eyes lit at the boy's actions, "Seriously, how is he not the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

From his corner Damian spoke up, "He's saying barely formed words and you're all ready to give him a medal." He snorted, "It's pathetic how easy you all are to impress."

"Is it just me or does someone sound a little jealous?" Barbara teased.

Damian glowered at her.

Barbara cooed back as she stroked the top of Jackson head, "It's okay Damian, no need to be a grump, I still think you're adorable too."

Tim laughed, "The only thing adorable about Damian is how much better he thinks he is than everyone else."

Barbara hit him lightly, "Be nice, he's obviously more sensitive than he wants anyone to know."

Tim's eyes rolled, "Oh please, Damian's about as sensitive as a rusty nail."

While Tim and Barbara continued their decidedly too eager bantering, Dick noticed one person distinctly missing from the table. "Where's Jason?"

Immediately, Barbara's eyes flew to his, a slight, knowing twinkle in them. Tim remained oblivious and simply shrugged his shoulders, "Who knows? He kind of dumped Jackson and said he had something to do."

"I'm sure he'll be back," Barbara was obviously trying to reassuring, but the hidden nudge in her smile was sort of driving Dick crazy.

Dick nodded before he flopped into a chair, feeling about three hundred years old, "Please tell me there's coffee."

Alfred was at his elbow almost immediately, a fresh mug in his hand.

Dick barely had time to blink at the offered item. Even after all these years it still amazed him. "God Al, how do you do that?"

Alfred gave him a slight scoff, as if the question was a personal insult, but the lift to his mouth said otherwise and he took off again.

"Rough night?" Barbara asked. She gave a wink and slight smirk, but Dick hardly found her innuendos amusing.

"Not really," Dick answered into his cup.

"No fun," Barbara mouthed so only Dick could see.

Dick just shook his head, inwardly begging her to leave it alone.

A useless plea, but one Dick made all the same.

"So Bruce and I were talking," Tim started. "I'm sure he told you the guy Jason brought in is a cop."

Jackson came to sit on his lap and Dick felt his ears perk. He stopped Jackson from reaching for his mug and cut him off a piece of French toast, which the boy eagerly ate, "He did. Do you think he's the one who attacked you guys?"

Tim shrugged, "Either way, I think we should find an excuse to meet up with the Andrew Sullivan here. See what he's like or what he might be hiding. The guy in the cell knew our identities; we might have another secret enemy we don't even know about yet."

Dick offered Jackson a second bite. Seemed Jason wasn't the only fan of French toast. "Bruce said he had a clean record."

Tim raised an amused brow, "Because there's never been a false record on a corrupt cop before?"

Dick's mouth lifted. _Smart ass_ , "Fine. Point taken."

"Another thing," Tim added. "He's stationed in Bludhaven."

Dick hadn't been expecting that, "Are you sure?" He'd made it his job to know every person that went in and out of the Bludhaven PD. He couldn't recall the name or face of an Andrew Sullivan.

Tim's face read a look of _are you seriously questioning my knowledge_? If there was one thing Tim Drake didn't do, it was blunder his facts.

Dick cleared his throat, "Right okay, well that sounds like a start, I guess."

"So I was thinking Damian and I could-"

"No," Dick cut him off. He needed some air away from the manor, a chance to do something besides just babysit. Bludhaven was his territory after all, "No, I'm doing this too."

"What about-" Tim motioned his head at Jackson.

"I'll watch him," Barbara put a gentle hand on the young man's shoulder. She leaned near Tim's ear, "He's not exactly used to being Mr. Mom and he's looking a little stir crazy, give the guy a break."

Tim nodded, though it looked reluctant and Dick wondered if he should be more upset by Tim's lack of confidence or that Barbara was still giving him a gloating, _I know what you did last night_ , kind of look.

Truthfully, what bothered Dick the most was, despite his insistence to be involved, a part of him really didn't _want_ to leave Jackson.

A sudden irrational fear hit Dick like a rush of cold water. The suffering Alfred's words.

 _-keep the child away from him._

 _-keep Jackson safe._

A bout of both anger and sadness followed the already burning fear and Dick tried his best to swallow all three feelings away.

It didn't work.

* * *

Jason Todd's body was numb.

Whatever juice cocktail he'd been given had worn off and once Jason's mind began to clear and he realized he was not only bound, had been drugged and was now lying in a cell, Jason Todd was anything but happy.

More than being pissed about his shitty accommodations, Jason was livid at the creep who was running around with his face. A face the bastard had seen fit to put a knife to. When he got out of here, there would definitely be hell to pay.

Too bad despite the newfound clarity, Jason was still unable to move. His throat felt so tender and raw it hurt just to swallow.

Tim and Dick, Alfred, even Bruce they had all come to see him, but not a one of them knew who he was. Hell, he hadn't known who he was at first either.

Now that he was fully aware however, Jason knew he had to find a way to communicate with the others. Sadly, the only thing that seemed to be functioning was his mind.

Shit lot of good that would do Jason if he couldn't tell anyone the prick that looked and sounded like him wasn't actually him. Either someone needed to learn ESP or his body needed to start working. And fast.

As he looked up at the sudden noise of footsteps, Jason wasn't surprised, but definitely pissed, to see his body moving without him in it. The bandage was still on what was supposed to be his face and Jason swore if it scared he'd take out double from this fucker's hide once he got his body back.

 _Comfy?_

The lips on Jason's body didn't move.

Speaking of ESP-

 _I know you can't speak back so I'll make this real simple for you. Give up, you've lost. You've lost and I won._

Jason blinked at him, seriously? What the hell kind of speech was that? Just what kind of two bit villain was this guy?

 _Even if you aren't him you're close enough and I'll enjoy taking everything away from you just as much. How does that saying go, never look a gift horse in the mouth?_

Jason managed the only thing his body would let him, even as dry as his throat was it felt good to literally spit a fuck you and watch the residue drip down the front wall of the cell.

Give up? Whatever this prick was spouting, he clearly didn't know Jason Todd as well as he seemed to think.

Jason watched his own eyes darken back at him. _I'll destroy you, Todd. I'll destroy you, just like I destroyed him._

Jason wanted nothing more than to pistol whip this imposter into oblivion. As it was, all he could do was watch helplessly as the man inside his damn body sauntered away.

Jason knew if he wasn't able to move, talk or do fucking something soon-he was going to lose the only thing he had left.

His mind.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

Jason wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the next time he opened his eyes, he awoke to the sight of Dick Grayson leaning over him. His first instinct was to tell the older man to back the hell off him, but of course, Jason could neither speak, nor physically force the man to do anything of the sort.

At least it wasn't the idiot masquerading as him. Jason had seen and heard about enough of him for one day.

Dick was dressed in his usual douche wear he liked so much and it wasn't surprising he had now added some tacky as shit necklace to his ensemble. Didn't the dickhead know he looked gay enough as it was? He really didn't need to add some obnoxious bling to the mix.

Dick voice was cautious, yet still soft as he addressed him, "Hey, can you hear me?"

Jason could indeed hear him and really wished he had the strength to prove this with one good hit or at least an insult of some kind. Dick didn't know that of course and as he continued to stare all Jason could think was how much his damn head hurt.

On instinct Jason brought a hand to his forehead. He realized, with no small amount of joy, that his hands were not only no longer bound, but he could move them. Slowly and unsteadily and with a hell of a lot of effort, but at least he could move something now.

Jason then managed what one would barely call a nod to Dick's question. He immediately regretted it as his head was still too heavy and his neck felt it might snap under the pressure.

Still, Dick seemed to take it for what it was. His face lit in a way that was both irritating and oddly comforting.

Kind of like Dick Grayson as a whole, really.

Jason wanted to tell him, wanted to warn him that the real Jason Todd was currently in front of him and they needed to stay the hell away from whoever or whatever was currently raiding his body.

The kid.

Jason swallowed and it was still painfully raw. He needed to get Dick to keep the kid away from the body snatcher. He needed to get Dick's attention. If he could just-

Dick was currently looking to the side, clearly distracted by something, probably the sound of footsteps coming from somewhere in the cave and Jason mustered all the strength he could in an attempt to reach out. His arm quivered and shook, but he finally managed to raise it higher and higher, even as the muscles of the body he was in screamed at him to stop. He got as far as Dick's collarbone before his strength finally gave out. Just as he brushed Dick's skin with his fingertips, his body locked up and suddenly his arm was cement and falling back down, too heavy to hold up anymore. Jason's fingers uselessly scraped down Dick's chest and as Dick turned when he realized what was happening Jason had unwittingly latched onto the only thing his fingers could grab onto.

That ugly ass necklace.

Dick's eyes bugged, but that might have been more from the fact that Jason was pretty sure he was choking him with the force of the chain pulling down on his neck. It was surprising the chain didn't snap off, but just as Jason's hand fully encompassed the silver ring at the end, an electric buzz ran up his arm.

"No!"

It could have been either the yell or the flash of white that hit Jason's vision, but either way his hand detached from the ring as if hit by a bolt of lightning. The air seemed to crackle and the lingering feeling of electricity traveled up and down Jason's arm, but he couldn't even yell through the pain.

Which made it so much worse.

 _Goddamnit_.

"What are you doing?"

Jason grit his teeth as he watch his body, obviously enraged by something, grab Dick and all but toss him out of the cell.

"Jason?" Dicks voice was confused and he was still trying to catch his breath.

The body snatcher hit the code to lock the door, "How many time do I have to tell you that man is dangerous? Jesus Dick, are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"He wasn't-" Dick looked back at the cell and Jason could see the smallest flash of uncertainty. Jesus Dickie, open your eyes, that isn't me, Jason wanted to scream. "I don't think he was trying to hurt me."

"Looked to me like he was," The body snatcher looked more than angry, he looked panicked. "I can't believe you went in there with him. What were you thinking?"

It may have been Jason's imagination but he swore the body snatcher was talking to Dick's neck more than he was Dick himself. Jason realized it was the necklace the man couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of.

Now it was Dick's turn to activate his bitch face, rising up to the body snatcher in a way that Jason might have found amusing, but frankly he was too weirded out that he was watching an argument happening with his body, that he wasn't actually apart of. "I don't know if you seem to have forgotten, but I happen to be older than you Jason and I would really appreciate it you would stop treating me like a child."

Somehow, somewhere it seemed that Bruce and Alfred appeared from nowhere. Jason anticipated with the tension suddenly mounting that there was bound to be a blow out of some kind.

Instead Dick turned to Bruce, mumbled something about leaving for a bit, before turning and marching out of the cave.

Bruce's eyes turned to the body snatcher, but he seemed to have said his peace and he disappeared too. Finally, Bruce's eyes turned to him and Jason willed his identity with all the mind power he could muster, hoping he'd become some kind of psychic, apparently, but the man only looked away after a moment with a sigh.

Damn.

Now Jason had not only no way to speak, but he also had a headache. And to top off his colossal shit sundae of misfortunes his body felt like he'd gone skinny dipping in a pool of live wires.

Fan- _fuking_ -tastic.

* * *

No, no, no-his pulse quickened as he paced.

This wasn't-how had he let this happen?

The voice clicked, "Can't say I didn't warn you, big guy. I tried to tell you it was a bad idea, but no, you just didn't want to listen."

He ignored the voice with a growl.

Maybe it wouldn't matter. The incantation hadn't been meant for Todd so maybe he wouldn't be affected. Maybe this could still work.

"Right and maybe I'll shit ice cream and sneeze rainbows," The voice agreed with a snicker.

Maybe he needed to give it a little time, see how it panned out.

And maybe, in the end-he'd have to end Todd sooner than he had planned.

* * *

"Find anything of interest on Sullivan?" Tim asked. He had one hand on the wheel as the other fiddled with the climate controls. Each building they passed reflected in his sunglasses like a sweep of neverending shape and colors.

The file on Andrew Sullivan lay unopened on Dick's lap. Truthfully, he hadn't even glanced at it yet. His thoughts had been elsewhere, mostly still muddled with his anger at Jason's earlier actions, and it was hard not to get lost looking out the window instead of studying the file like he should have been.

Dick had wanted to look at the man known as Andrew Sullivan himself, really study him and see if there wasn't something he was missing in all this. Despite what Tim seemed to think, Dick still wasn't sure they had the right guy. The earlier encounter had been a bit startling, but he still didn't feel any malice, the man had seemed like he was reaching out when he'd snagged his necklace.

Jason seemed to feel differently.

Dick gave Tim an exasperated sigh, "I thought you had already read up on him?"

Tim shook his head, "Just the basics, I figured the rest could be your job."

"Gee, thanks," Dick flipped the folder open and searched for the first fact he could find. "Does it interest you to know his middle name is Gerald?"

Dick heard rather than saw Tim roll his eyes, "Dick-"

"Alright, alright. I'm looking," Dick said over a grumble. "Sheesh."

His eyes sailed across the man's profile information, his name, height and address and moved onto the man's credentials first as a student, then as an officer. Dick whistled at what he found, "This guy is smart." His finger moved further down the list, "Like he graduated from Harvard law kind of smart."

Tim's brows pinched, "Harvard? Why would a guy who graduated from Harvard law become a police officer? In Bludhaven of all places?"

Tim said Bludhaven like it made his throat hurt. Dick frowned, "I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that."

"You have to admit, it's a little odd. We both know how much less a cop makes than a lawyer, one with a Harvard degree at that."

Dick shrugged, "Maybe he had a reason."

"Like he spent all those years learning law just to be a cop?"

That felt like a personal hit Dick didn't appreciate, "Nothing wrong with being a cop."

"Never said there was, but with an education like that, you'd think you'd find a better-oh come on, hit the gas, grandpa!"

Dick smiled, "Sweet little Tim, first you're saying the f word now you're road raging. What happened to that shy little boy I used to know?"

"Should have just taken the bike," Tim grumbled.

"You've never truly appreciated Bluhaven until you driven the freeway," Dick chuckled, but Tim's mouth just tightened over a whatever.

Dick's eyes went back to the file as he continued to read, he flipped the first page and stopped when a picture fell out of the file and onto the car floor. He reached to pick it up, turning it over to study the image. Andrew Sullivan's photo was an official police photo Bruce had probably gotten from the database. It was odd how different he looked, clean and dressed and standing at attention. He was well groomed and handsome, nothing like the man in the cell. He looked different, but more than that he looked-

 _Red wine splashes in a glass, swirling like a crimson whirlwind as it hits the bottom. Two long stemmed candles illuminate the neatly set table. There's a slight glow and just a hint of vanilla in the air-_

 _-it's perfect._

 _Well more like almost perfect._

 _A pair of blue eyes, eyes that if he squints hard enough might have been the right shade, looking at him, adoringly, loving, so kind and caring. It's enough that Dick secretly feels sick. This man is-he's so right in all the ways anyone would ever want or need someone to be. So right and yet-_

 _-completely wrong._

 _Words spilled from the man's mouth, he smiles and it's sunny and perfect and everything he says is melodic even as he laughs at something the waiter says. His face-his face takes a moment to completely focus, but once it does-_

 _A date, Dick is on a date with Andrew Sullivan._

"I'm sorry, did you just say a date?" Tim's voice broke through and Dick turned to him.

"Huh?" Had Dick been speaking aloud?

"You said date," Tim's tone was both questioning and disapproving. He seemed almost annoyed, "Are you saying you've been on a date with this guy?"

"I-" Dick fumbled with his hair. "Have I?"

 _Soft blue eyes watching him, reaching for his hand, caressing his knuckle-_

 _Three months, Dick's been trying for three months. Andy is so sweet and nice and a good friend. He's everything Dick should want, but no matter how many times he tries to tell himself otherwise, it's not working, He can't-he just can't do it anymore._

 _Dick can't, because it's not what he wants, and it's not fair. To either of them._

"Dick?"

Was it Andrew or Tim talking to him? Dick heard Tim's voice, but Andrew's mouth was the one that moved.

Jesus, why was everything so fuzzy?

As if reading Dick's thoughts the world became clear as crystal.

Glasses clacked and suddenly the smells and sounds of the restaurant Andy had chosen were amplified and Dick was there. Right there in a place far away from Tim's sports car.

"You've been quiet all evening," Andy's smile tugged a tight line and there was a definite apprehensiveness near his eyes. He watched Dick pour himself another glass of wine, but didn't point out he'd nearly downed half the bottle already, "Everything alright?"

Dick had no clue what glass number he was on, but it seemed no amount of the sickly pungent liquid was enough to calm his nerves. At this rate he'd be wasted before he'd even had a chance to say his peace. Even now his tongue was oddly loose, yet he swore everything tasted a bit like sandpaper.

God, what was he doing?

Dick blurted it out, something he had to say, maybe to ease his conscious or to show Andy that this really isn't about him. This was Dick's problem, his issue and certainly had nothing to do with Andy as a person, "You're a nice guy, Andy."

Probably too nice, really. Andrew Sullivan could very well have been called a saint. He didn't smoke, didn't swear, probably didn't even jaywalk. Hell, he'd never even have so much as a parking ticket or a bad word said against him.

Andy smiled, "You're a nice guy too, Dick."

Dick shook his head, nice guys didn't do what he was about to do, "No, I'm not." It may have been slightly slurred, but truthfully Dick's not that tipsy. "I'm really, really not."

Andy's eyes crinkled in that way they did when he was confused, "Dick, is something wrong?"

Dick snorted, then realized he might have done so a bit too loudly and placed his hand to his mouth. Jesus, maybe he was more than a little tipsy.

"Dick," Andy was definitely concerned now. "Babe, what is it?"

God he just had to make it harder with those puppy eyes, didn't he?

"The truth is Andy, I'm a terrible, terrible person. You're the most wonderful person and you have so much to give," Dick's throat burned along with his eyes. "I-"

Andy's eyes refused to leave his, "Dick, why are you talking like this?"

"Andy I'm sorry, but I-"

"No," Andy cut him off right away. "No Dick, don't even think about saying it."

Dick shook his head, he had to, it was only fair, "Andy, I can't do this anymore. It's not-"

"No."

"Andy, it seriously has nothing to do with you-"

"No, you can't."

"I'm just-you'll find someone better than me, someone who deserves you. I know you will."

"But why? I've done everything, I've tried so hard to be nothing but good to you."

"You have been good to me, Andy. Of course you have."

"Then why?"

Why indeed? Dick wasn't cruel enough to give the real reason, but he wasn't sure the alternative was any better. "I've just-I have to work some things out. I think it would be better if I tried to be on my own for awhile. Like I said, it's me-"

"-not you?" Andy scoffed. "You're giving me the oldest line in the book? Seriously Dick?"

Dick winced because he kind of was-

"Well I'm sorry, but I just can't except that. I won't."

Dick held in a sigh, "Andy, I-"

"I don't know how many times you have to do this before you realize he's wrong for you, Dick." Andy's voice was barely above a whisper. "He'll never care about you like I do. Never."

"This isn't about-"

Andy's anger was evident as he rose from the table, but he still had the grace not to make a scene, "Yes it is, it always is."

Dick watched him leave with a sigh. He ignored the mist in his eyes and the lump in his throat, because he didn't deserve to cry. He didn't deserve to feel the least bit sorry for himself because Andy was right.

It was about him, it always was.

"Earth to Dick Grayson, am I coming in? Hello Dick, you in there?"

The hum of the car replaced the sounds of the restaurant and Dick was left once again gasping for breath as his finger gripped the seat of Tim's leather interior to keep himself grounded.

He looked over to see Tim pop his lips, a dark brow rising over his designer sunglasses, "Want to explain what the hell that was about?"

Dick blinked, "I need a pen."

"Excuse me?"

"I need a-" Dick flipped open the glove box and rifled about till he found what he was looking for. Tossing the cap off and flipping over one of the reports, he began to write.

"Er-what are you doing?" Tim asked.

"Making sure I don't forget," It seemed crazy, worse it sounded crazy, but Dick was starting to think these little day dreams were more than simply an overactive imagination. They seemed to be jumbled and out of order, but they were getting clearer and longer and he wanted to make a timeline.

"Don't forget what? Dick, what's going on?"

If only Dick could answer that. All he knew was it seemed important to keep track of what he was seeing, of what he was feeling.

"Dick? Hello?"

"I broke up with him-" Dick jotted down.

Tim just continued to gape, "What? Broke up with who? Andrew Sullivan?"

Dick's mouth lifted, barely hearing anything Tim said, "But it was okay because that was the night Jason proposed."

The car gave a shudder as Tim's nearly sent the vehicle careening into traffic, "What!?"

Jason was waiting for him. Leaning outside his apartment with a cigarette in his mouth.

Of course he was.

"The hell happened to you?"

Dick didn't respond, he held his hand out and for a moment Jason stared at him in confusion. Dick waved his hand pointedly and Jason finally handed the stick over.

"Christ, that bad, huh?"

Dick took a drag and blew out smoke, "What do you want, Jason?"

"I'd settle for you naked doing that," Jason motioned to the cigarette. "I'm gone for six months and you take up smoking? What other dirty habits have picked up I don't know about?"

Six months, had it only been that long? It certainly felt a hell of a lot longer.

And Dick hadn't take up smoking, though he did keep an old pack of Jason's around because he was pathetic like that.

Dick repeated the question, "What do you want, Jason?"

Jason gave something that kind of looked like a shrug. Dick handed him the cigarette back and Jason took one last drag before stamping it out. "I-forgot something."

"Oh."

Jason had left something at Dick's place. Certainly, it had nothing to do with seeing Dick, Jason had simply forgotten something. Of course. Dick swallowed. The wine sat like acid in his stomach.

"Are you drunk?" Jason looked amused.

Dick tried to stab the door one too many times with his key. "No."

Jason rolled his eyes and grabbed the key. Unlocking the door in one twist he bowed, "After you, my inebriated princess."

"Shut up."

Dick tried not to stumble as he made his way to the kitchen, where he finally rested his head on the counter with a groan.

What a frickin' night.

He looked up to see Jason staring at him. Standing on the other side of the counter, the younger man looked like a statue.

A very tall, very sexy statue.

"Well?" Dick prompted. "What did you forget?" He waved a hand haphazardly. "Go get whatever it is." It wasn't like Jason didn't know the place inside and out. There probably wasn't an area in the whole apartment at least some part of Jason Todd hadn't touched. Clothed or otherwise.

Jason's voice was uncharacteristically soft, "I am." He held his hand out and Dick simply stated at it.

"Huh?"

Jason gave out a small chuckle, "Got to say Dickie, you're really killing my vibe here."

"Vibe?" What vibe?

"I kind of figured of the two of us I'd be the one who'd be drunk," Jason came nearer and entwined their hands together. He prodded Dick on gently, "Come on, I want to show you something."

Dick was completely lost as to what he meant, but he let Jason guide him regardless. He followed the taller man towards the bedroom and was surprised and a bit jolted when Jason all of a sudden stopped. He could see Jason's shoulders move as the man took a deep shuddering breath. Almost like he was-

-nervous?

What would Jason have to be nervous about?

What the hell was going on?

"Jason-" Dick prodded. "Jay, what is it?"

"The truth is Dick, I-" Jason turned to him and swallowed. "I-I can't do this anymore."

"Jason," How was Jason throwing Dick's own line back at him? Especially considering they were already broken up. "What are you-"

Jason put a finger to Dick's mouth, silencing him, "Look I've already practiced this a million times in my head, so just let me get through it alright?"

Dick hesitantly nodded.

Jason took this as a sign to continue, "This-this thing we do, the back and forth, back and forth, I really can't do it anymore." The man's mouth lifted in a small smile, "I've tried Dick, Jesus I've tried. Tried to find something better, tried to find someone that will make me feel the way you do. I-I just-Dick, I just can't."

A calloused hand moved to his face and Dick couldn't help moving closer into the warmth of Jason's touch. This was what Andy, despite all his good intentions, could never be.

Andrew Sullivan could never be Jason Todd.

Jason's voice was almost a whisper now, "It doesn't matter what I do, who I'm with, how hard I try to move on-Jesus Dick, I-I just can't. I can't be without you and fuck-I don't even want to try."

Dick's eyes burned. He wasn't sure if it was still the alcohol in his system, but even as he blinked the warm liquid that fell from his eyes, he would never admit that he was crying.

What the hell, yes he was. Dick Grayson was crying.

Jason didn't seem startled, he simply smiled and brushed the tears away, "Aw come on, you haven't even let me get to the good part yet."

He pulled Dick toward the cracked bedroom door and pushed it open, Dick wasn't sure what he was expecting, but this-he gaped-this wasn't it.

This was-this was-Dick turned back to him in complete and utter shock and before he could open his mouth, Jason cut him off. "Before you ask, Tim helped and he may have gotten a little-overzealous."

Rose petals, candles, the dimmed lights- Jesus, it was-it looked like something out of a bad romance movie. This wasn't Jason. If there was one thing Jason didn't do it was blatant romance-not like this. "Jason-" Dick didn't even know where to begin.

Jason was at his back, mouth right at his ear, "I know it's a little cheesy, but that's what you get when you get help from a probable virgin."

It might have been a little cheesy, but truthfully-something about it felt so much more sentimental, even if it was a bit of overkill on his eyes, "You know if I didn't know any better I'd swear you were-" Dick stopped, because the answer was so obvious the moment it nearly left his lips.

He whirled around at the younger man and Jason was giving him a small, though decidedly nervous looking smile. Even still slightly tipsy, Dick could see, knew he was right, "Oh my god, you are."

Jason's smile grew a bit more confident, "Do I have to get on one knee?"

It was at that point Dick lost it, he broke down and latched onto Jason while his vision swam in a sea of tears that didn't seem to be able to stop. Dick lost it because this was-

"I've decided there's only way to deal with you, Dick Grayson," Jason swallowed, "And that's for you to marry me."

Marry me-

Dick wasn't sure if he could even manage an answer because he's pretty sure all he did was sob against Jason's chest.

Damn that stupid wine, he really was a mess, wasn't he?

Jason's voice reverberated against him, "So um, Is that a yes or-" he fell off awkwardly.

Dick croaked a laugh. "I can't believe you let Tim do this."

"Oh come on Dickie, don't leave a guy hanging-"

Dick reached up and met Jason's mouth in what was probably not the world's most romantic kiss, it felt a bit sloppy, but Jason didn't seem to mind. Dick melted against the strong arms of Jason Todd and choked out one single word.

"Yes."

This was absolutely cheesy and absolutely Jason all at the same time.

This was perfect-

Absolutely and completely perfect.

"Alright that does it."

Tim's voice came from somewhere above and one moment he was holding Jason and the next Dick was staring into the obviously bewildered and slightly panicked face of Timothy Drake. He had pulled the car off the road as was grinding his teeth as he drummed the steering wheel. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Dick began jotting down and refused to meet his gaze, mostly because his heart was currently ready to explode. "There's nothing wrong with-"

Tim called his bluff right away, " _Bullshit_. You've been acting weird and saying odd things all day. What the hell is going on with you?"

Dick finished his writing and fell against the headrest, he scratched at his hairline, "Honestly Tim, I have no idea." It wasn't like he could deny that something strange was going on anymore. He was seeing things and it felt too real to be some made up fantasy or whatever. "I've been-" he hesitated. "Seeing things I guess."

Tim's mouth thinned, "Seeing things? Like what kind of things?"

"I-I can't really say for sure, but I think it might have something to do with me, the other me. I think I might be seeing his-memories I guess."

Tim frowned, "We're going back to Gotham."

Dick blinked, "What, why? We're nearly there."

Tim's voice took on a rebuking tone, "Dick you can't see yourself, but you've been rambling the last ten minutes, saying things," he took a shaky breath. "You just told me Jason proposed to you. This isn't okay, you need to get checked out."

"I'll get checked out when we get back after we've talked to Sullivan," Dick refused to call him Andy. "It's not worth heading back when we're almost there."

Tim clearly disagreed and Dick could see he wanted to argue, "Look I promise I can keep it under control, alright?" Dick knew that was a lie, so far he hadn't been able to control much of anything. "Let's just do this and I promise I'll have Bruce take a look at me, alright?"

Tim didn't answer at first and as he pursed his lips, Dick thought for sure he was going to swing the car back towards Gotham anyway. He finally relented with a sigh. "Fine, but I do the talking, got it? The last thing we need is you rambling or confessing your love to him or whatever."

Dick nodded. He didn't add anything about that not being a problem.

Because he was pretty sure that Dick Grayson, _that_ Dick Grayson anyway only had eyes for one man.

And it wasn't Andrew Sullivan.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

* * *

Andrew, everyone calls me _Andy,_ Sullivan was, as far as Tim could tell anyway, an incredibly dedicated police officer and an overall charming man. He walked confidently, had a perfectly straight smile and despite his seemingly well-educated background, the man was surprisingly easy to talk to.

Color Tim impressed. If he really were the eager college student looking to join the force, as Tim was claiming to be, he might have signed, sealed and packed his belongings before he even wrote his name on the dotted line.

As it was Timothy Drake had no interest in joining the Bludhaven Police Training Program.

 _Johnathan Thomas,_ on the other hand _,_ couldn't be more ecstatic.

Tim tried not to think too much on Dick's odd behavior and how the man's earlier actions had both worried and angered him to no end. If Dick had been seeing things-whatever those things actually were-why hadn't he said anything earlier?

Damn that man's stubborn streak, it was going to be the death of him one day.

Tim saw it only fit, maybe even a punishment of sorts, that he had to leave Dick at his apartment instead of bringing him along. Dick tossed a few select words at him for doing so, but there was no way Tim could risk Dick doing or saying something that would ultimately deem him insane or a possible danger, because Dick was sort of starting to sound a bit-unstable.

Jason's proposal-how Dick had described it, probably without even being aware-that was what did it for Tim. TMI didn't even begin to cover what Tim's ears had been forced to endure. The very idea of Jason Todd and Dick Grayson on a bed of rose petals was more than poor Tim's gag reflex could stand.

Dick had to stay behind, end of story.

Andy finally came around to rest against his desk. He was tall and obviously well built, and there was definitely something about him that reminded Tim of Jason. Jason was broader and obviously a bigger jackass and truthfully they didn't look _that_ much alike, but Andy Sullivan somehow still came off as a slightly smaller, _nicer_ version of Jason Todd.

Tim felt that was worth noting somehow.

Andy folded his arms and smiled, "So-I'm sorry, I never asked. Is it alright if I call you Jonathan?"

"John's fine," Tim answered, shuffling in his chair.

Andy nodded, "John. What do you think? They do grade me on these things, unfortunately. Can you say I've proven just how worthwhile and rewarding this job can be?"

"Actually, you have." And that wasn't even a lie. Considering the Bludhaven P.D. made the Gotham P.D. look like world class superstars, which was really saying something. Andy was good at this. He even had some impressive looking pamphlets and everything.

Tim looked at one such pamphlet and couldn't help noticing how much obvious photo manipulation had been done to make Bludhaven look cleaner than it actually was. He bit his lip, "Although-I do have one question."

"Shoot," Andy replied easily.

Tim scooted a bit closer and lowered his voice. His eyes shifted, "What's it like? Working with him? You do get to see him, don't you?"

"Him?"

Tim prodded, "You know-"

Something in Tim's gesture made Andy's mouth click, "Ah. Batman." He sighed, but it sounded more tired than annoyed, like he'd heard the question more than once. "I'm sorry to tell you this, John," Andy's eyes were obviously strained as he continued to smile. "But if you came here thinking you'd see Batman, you're in the wrong city."

But that wasn't Tim's goal, granted he knew more about Batman than Andy could ever hope to, but Tim had the sinking suspicion, especially with Dick's earlier revelation, Batman wasn't the one he should be, oh so innocently, asking about.

Tim shook his head, "Batman's cool, but if I wanted to see him, I'd have stayed in Gotham. It's the new guy I'm more interested in." He threw out some names, "Birdman, Nightingale, Nightowl, something to do with a bird I think-"

"Nightwing."

Nothing in Andy's demeanor really changed at the name. He remained in the same position and his tone wasn't overly enraptured or anything. Still-there was definitely _something_ -nothing blatantly obvious, but Tim noticed the dilation of Andy's pupils and a slight shift that could have been taken as standing on one's feet for two long.

Subtle as the changes were, Tim knew he'd hit his mark.

 _Bingo._

Tim nodded, "Yeah him, sorry I'm not very good with names." He gave an apologetic smile, "I just-I think he's kind of awesome-you know?"

Andy's face seemed to soften even further, "I have to admit, I'm impressed, not that many people know about him-which is a shame."

Wasn't that just going to just floor poor Dick to no end, Tim held in a smirk, "So have you-have you met him? Seen him? What's he like?"

"Officially speaking, vigilantes aren't exactly praised by most officers around here."

Tim raised a brow, "And unofficially-"

"He-I kind of owe him everything really," Andy swallowed and his mouth lifted. "Without Nightwing I wouldn't be here. He saved my life."

And _that_ was just the shovel Tim had been looking for.

Now he could get his hands dirty and really dig deeper in the hole that was Andy Sullivan.

"Tell me about it."

Andy looked a bit embarrassed, but he nodded, "Could take awhile."

"I got time," Tim assured.

Tim didn't exactly have all the time in the world, but John Thomas sure did.

* * *

Dick wasn't pouting, because at over twenty years of age, Dick Grayson didn't pout, but if he wasn't actually pouting, he was very, _very_ close to it.

 _"Don't pout at me, I'm not going to some clown show just because you give me bedroom eyes and wear your fuck me, Jason jeans. You know how those things creep me out. The lips and eyes aren't working so just forget it."_

 _"It's not a clown show. It's called a circus and yes Jason-yes you are."_

Oh Jesus, not again. Dick grabbed his paper, feeling like he was in school again, writing notes for some big test he needed to ace at the end of the semester.

Problem was Dick didn't know if or when the test would ever come. What if what was happening to him didn't go away, what if-

 _"I can't believe you talked me into this," Jason's the one pouting now, though his voice can barely be heard over the commotion around them._

 _"I promised I'd make it worth it, didn't I?" Dick asks, eyes never leaving the performers on the stage._

 _Jason watches him for a moment, "You'd really like to be up there, wouldn't you?"_

 _Dick shrugs, though he can't deny the ache in his bones, "Not really-kind of past my prime for that."_

 _"Oh Yeah, not even twenty five and you're life's already over. Next you'll be needing a walker," Jason snickered. "Maybe we should start looking into retirement homes?"_

 _Dick scowls, but Jason intertwines their hands together with a chuckle, "Don't worry, I'll make sure to visit every day."_

 _"And I'll make sure you're forever stuck in the chair right next to me," Dick vows._

 _Jason smirks and kisses his cheek, "Have I ever told you how much I love you, Dick Grayson."_

 _"Yes, several times-now let me watch the show."_

 _"Fine, but just so you know," Jason leans close because, really, there_ **_are_ ** _children about. "When this is over, I'm going to have you on all fours fucking howling my name to every goddamn galaxy there is. Got me?"_

 _Dick only slightly raises a brow, but there's a definite turn to his lip that hadn't been there before._

 _They finish watching the show and the night seems to explode into fireworks._

 _In more way than one._

Dick sighed, because as sad it was to admit, he'd already seen several scenarios of Dick Grayson and Jason Todd doing assorted _things_ he wasn't going to name out loud to each other and it wasn't even surprising him anymore.

That should be worrying, shouldn't it? Surely it should.

Dick wasn't sure what to put for the last one, Circus sex maybe? His paper was fast becoming full of notes in his barely legible handwriting and he was pretty sure the latest blip was before the engagement as he hadn't been wearing the ring.

Dick knew it even before he actually saw the moment Jason had given it to him-the other him, Dick knew the ring around his neck was _his_ wedding ring.

Should it bother him that _their_ Jason had been the one to give it to him, while talking of playing house together?

Probably.

No. Most definitely. It most definitely _should_ have bothered him.

So why then-

There was a knock at the door and Dick couldn't help but frown. What could Tim have possibly forgotten? Or maybe he was coming back to ask for his help after all. He rolled his eyes as he griped to himself, "Doesn't want my help, huh? Well look who's come crawling-"

The door swept open and two light blue, almost violet colored eyes glared at him. Long curled strawberry blonde hair swept with incredibly expensive highlights and a perfectly made up face, the beautiful woman that stomped in was the very definition of classy sex appeal and yet for a moment Dick struggled to even remember her name.

"Rose?" Right. Rose Morgan-his _sort_ of girlfriend.

"Richard." She'd always refused to call him Dick. Too vulgar a name probably. She was the University president's daughter and an honors student after all.

"Um-" the woman pushed her way past him and Dick could only fumble at her sudden and rather unexpected appearance, "What are you doing here?"

Rose folded her arms at him, "Oh I'm sorry, I don't see or hear from you for two days and all you can say to me is-what are you doing here?"

"Sorry, I've been a bit-" _God_ , was there even a word to describe it? "Busy."

Rose sniffed, "You're always busy Richard, it should be your middle name."

"I was just-my family needed help with some recent _unexpected_ arrivals and I've kind of had my hands full."

Rose made a face at the state of his apartment, which Dick had to admit, wasn't exactly clean, "Just helping out again, like usual. Another thing you seem to find more important than me."

"I'm sorry Rose, but for the record I find you very important."

His smooth talking did nothing to lighten the woman's mood, "If I'm so important why haven't you called me? I had to find out from Sophia who saw you getting out of a car with some guy that you were even home."

There was something accusatory in the way she said _some guy_ , "That was my brother."

"I thought you said your brother was a little kid?"

"Different brother."

Rose's lips thinned, "Be honest with me. There's someone else, isn't there?"

"What?" Dick wasn't sure how true that was, but somehow hearing that made him feel guilty all the same.

Why he felt at fault, Dick had no clue. He had no control over what he was seeing and it wasn't like he _was_ the Dick Grayson with a husband and kid-

-right?

 _"Who is he?"_

 _Dick tries not to sigh, "Who is who, Jason?"_

 _"Don't play cute with me, I saw you two up on the roof last night. Maybe your tights are getting a little too tight if you didn't notice, but Mr. Uniform looked awfully happy to see you."_

 _Dick does sigh this time, although he doesn't accuse Jason of spying because the truth is he doesn't want an argument, "He's my police contact and he was giving me information on a perp, nothing more." His mouth twists, "Andy is-"_

 _"Oh, we're on a first name basis already? Andy sure works fast, doesn't he?"_

 _"I'm trying to build trust Jason; I'm not looking for a date."_

 _Jason plants a hand solidly on the counter and shakes his head, "Christ almighty Dick, you're like the patron saint of loyalty," his eyes flick to the mark on Dick's neck though he tries not to make it too obvious; "it's not you I don't trust."_

 _"Then trust me when I say Officer Sullivan is probably one of the most honest people I've ever met."_

 _Jason huffs, "Yeah, I'm sure he's a real charmer."_

 _Dick pinches Jason's side playfully, "Stop acting like a jealous jerk. Calm down," He kisses the taller man. "I don't like nice guys, remember?"_

 _Jason studies him, but finally relents. Dick hopes it's because he really does trust him and realizes Dick really isn't into Andy. At all._

 _"My memories kind of fuzzy," Jason replies, grabbing Dick's back and purposely touching his ass as he pulls him closer, "Remind me why that is again."_

"Who is Jason?"

Dick was afraid he'd been talking out loud again, but Rose wasn't even looking at him. She had moved to the kitchen counter, where the paper Dick had been writing on was sitting, her eyes flited to it as her brows furrowed, "What is-Richard, what is this?"

Oh sweet Jesus on a pogo stick, how could he-Dick tried to snatch the paper up, but it was too late. Rose had seen the writing, ramblings no doubt of what looked like a madman. Rose was a well-known speed reader and one of the few women he knew that could actually read his handwriting.

Her violet eyes found his and she repeated, "Who is Jason?"

"He's nobody, _that's_ -look, it's nothing alright-"

"I'm starting to think we've become nothing," Rose murmured. "I don't know what _this_ ," she motioned to the paper, "is, and honestly I don't care anymore." She shook some lint from her blouse, "The truth is I came here to tell you-it's over, Richard."

She waited for a response. Maybe Dick was supposed to be shocked, surprised, devastated-

Whatever he was supposed to be, he clearly wasn't.

Dick absently nodded, "That's cool." Honestly, his mind was still working out where to put the last memory on the timeline and he really could give or take on Rose's sudden desire to break up with him. It was a completely foreign feeling as Dick didn't normally do well with break ups, but hell if it didn't feel like it was his second one that day.

Seemed he was becoming a bit of a pro at them.

"That's cool? I cannot believe you would- _Ugh_ -" Rose balked then tossed her perfectly coiffed hair with a huff. "Whatever. I'd ask you to lose my number, but that doesn't seem to be an issue. Don't ever try to call or contact me again. We're through Richard Grayson, you hear me?"

Rose left, slamming the door for dramatic effect and Dick was oddly relieved she was gone. He felt like he was enduring three different relationships, all in the span of two days, and it was all getting a little tiring. Never mind, the child he'd somehow acquired on top of it. Everything was tail spinning and at this point, losing Rose seemed more like a blessing than anything. One less thing to worry about it.

Dick decided, as he grabbed his coat and made sure to pointedly stay away from his bedroom, god only knew what other memories that might prompt, that he needed some air. He needed to get out his apartment-needed to find out what was wrong with him, but more than that-

He needed to stop his sudden urge to call Jason, just so he could hear his voice.

* * *

For all her claims that she would watch the hell spawn of Todd and Grayson, Damian was convinced Gordon had left him with the child on purpose. The boy had a new accomplice now; some bedraggled looking lion that he seemed intent on showing to Damian every chance he got.

 _Kitty_ had lost its appeal long ago and Damian swore if he ever got his hands on the damn thing he might just burn it.

He truthfully didn't have any time, or patience for the child's babbling, yet it seemed no matter how hard Damian tried to escape the tiny nightmare, Jackson trailed him. Mini Todd's voice seemed a constant noise and his waddling was never far off.

Damian was pretty sure children were supposed to be women's responsibility so once Gordon had carelessly let him from her sight, Damian was convinced she'd somehow failed in what he assumed was supposed to be motherly instinct. Finding her unfit, he'd taken the child, but soon realized in doing so, he'd created a small shadow he wouldn't be soon rid of.

Gordon had planned it, Damian was sure of that now.

It wasn't until the hallway he was traveling down fell silent that Damian realized Jackson's constant talking and chirping had suddenly seemed to stop. Normally, he would have been relieved, but as the dark shadow of a man passed ahead of them, it took only a moment to realize Jackson had stilled at the sight of Jason Todd.

Damian frowned as Todd grew closer, a sneer already forming on the older man's face.

"Babysitting, huh?" Damian wasn't sure why, but he swore Todd was looking at him a bit- _differently_ than usual. "I suppose you could use the practice."

Damian's eyes narrowed, "What are you on about, Todd?"

Todd's eyes trailed down Damian's face and seemed to stop somewhere near his collarbone and throat. His brow furrowed before he responded, "Nothing." Though Todd hardly sounded certain.

If Damian didn't have time for Jackson, he certainly had even less for Todd, but he felt the man was here for a reason, as if he'd searched them out on purpose. "Did you need something?"

Jason's mouth twitched in an almost smile, "I thought you might want a break," He looked around Damian and his eyes landed on the recently frozen Jackson. "Hey pal, want to hang out for a while."

It wasn't so much that Jackson moved closer to Damian as it was, surprisingly enough, that Damian moved closer to Jackson. Though he wasn't sure why. "I don't think that's necessary."

"Necessary?" Jason's smile was a bit forced. "Come on, he's my-" he seemed to rethink what he was going to say. "He seems a little jumpy and I just want him to get comfortable around me, that's all."

Jackson was clearly anything but comfortable, odd considering he'd been smiling at giggling at Todd before the GCPD attack. What seemed to have changed since then? "Then I'm afraid you've failed quite miserably on that front, Todd." Damian felt a small hand grasp his jeans. It seemed that Jackson was not only grabbing the material, but latching onto Damian as a whole.

It seemed to bring out something in him Damian had never felt before.

Jason grit his teeth, "Jesus, it's not like I'm going to eat him. But if me and Dick and going to pretend to be-"

"Pretending to be anything but what you two are is a mockery not only to this boy, but his real parents as well. If you intend to care for him do it because you want to, not because you feel some inane need to prove something," Damian wasn't sure why Jason's look was bothering him, but it was. More so than usual. Something about Todd seemed disingenuous. Where Grayson was hesitant and confused, but ultimately still welcoming to Jackson, Todd seemed more demanding, angry even.

Like he was somehow going to _force_ Jackson to like him.

"Look, it's not like you're his keeper-"

"He clearly doesn't want to go with you, Todd. If you try and force him I'm pretty sure he'll only throw a fit." And that was really the last thing Damian wanted to deal with. Funny how when Jackson had arrived Damian had been the cause of one such fit and now-

Jason's eyes darkened, "Fine, hog him all to yourself. That's what selfish brats do isn't it, refuse to share? See if I care."

And Damian really had nothing to say to that. Was that really the best Todd had to insult him with? He sounded like a five year old refused his favorite toy, not at all the grown man he was.

Todd stomped away and Damian wasn't sure if they didn't need to rescan the man for more than a concussion. He was clearly-not himself.

Damian looked down at Jackson and his frown deepened. Children were intuitive, much more intuitive than most people knew-if something was off with Todd-

-it wasn't just Damian who was feeling it.

* * *

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

The voice was laughing gut wrenching chuckles that made him more furious than he already was. "Oh come on boy, just having a little fun-I've been cooped up here too long. Starting to go a little stir crazy."

"Try something like that again and I'll make sure to silence you once and for all," Calling Wayne a brat-and throwing a tantrum, what was the damned voice thinking?

"As if you could," the voice taunted. "I'm pretty sure if you knew how to do that, you'd have done that a long time ago."

He sighed. So far his plans weren't running as smoothly as he'd hoped. The boy seemed frightened of him and Dick had left for Bludhaven for some reason.

So much for the start of his new beginning.

"Tsk, tsk boy, use your head. This isn't just any family you've stumbled upon, this is the Bat Family. Why do you think your lovely little Dickie has run off for? Think real hard now-"

The words hit him hard as he realized what the voice was eluding to, "No-" How had he not thought about that, about _him_?

"See where that fancy education has gotten you?"

He couldn't respond, mind racing with too many other thoughts and scenarios he obviously hadn't considered.

The voice answered itself, "Clearly nowhere."

* * *

Jason wasn't feeling well.

Aside from the nausea that had now crept upon him, his head was pounding like a son of a bitch. He almost swore his face was flushed with a fever and if he thought on it long enough, he could almost feeling the patter of rain on his face-which was absolutely ridiculous and yet-

"You Andy Sullivan?"

As if he didn't already know.

The slightly shorter man turned at him, surprise evident in his eyes, "Yeah. I am. But-who are you?" He looked around as if searching for something, poor sap had it bad. "Where's Nightwing?"

Hopefully in bed eating the ice cream Jason had gone for at two in the morning. "Nightwing's going on hiatus for a while. I'm watching the place till he gets back so whatever information you have you can go through me instead."

It was obvious Andy hardly found Red Hood an ample replacement for Nightwing as his eyes flickered from the Hood's outfit to his red mask with uncertainty, "Why? Is something wrong with him? Is he okay?"

Back your roll pal , Red Hood wanted to say. Instead he grinned, though he knew the other man couldn't see it, "Nah, he's fine. Better than fine actually, but like I said he's taking a little vacation," almost seven months' worth and then some. Even longer if Jason had his say. "So you and me, we're going to become real chums in the meantime."

Andy looked like he'd rather pick out his own teeth with a pair of tweezers. Red Hood nearly snorted, nice guy Dick said. Looks like he knew how to ruffle Mr. nice guy without even trying. The man handed over the information, but it took a moment before Red Hood could actually wrestle the file from his hand.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Red Hood saluted, but before he could zip away, Andy stopped him.

"He's-he's really okay?"

Red Hood sighed, Andy Sullivan was still pining after both Dick and Nightwing. He knew about Jason and Dick's marriage so he seemed to have backed off that, but he clearly didn't know Nightwing was off limits too.

"Yeah pal, he's fine." Red Hood actually felt a bit bad for the poor guy. It only felt right to stamp his hope out in the way Dick had apparently never had the heart to do. Cruel to be kind, that was the saying, wasn't it? "Look, you want some advice? You kind of look like you could use a good time, do yourself a favor and go have some fun. Unwind a little. They've got you working too hard if you're dreaming about guys in masks. Nightwing's already taken and trust me, you really don't want to mess with the guy he's found. Real piece of work from what I've heard. Snaps heads in two," he shook the file. "Thanks again."

The look on Andy's face as he flew away was devastated, but for some reason Red Hood wasn't sure he could ever stamp out the infatuation the man held for the one person he could never have.

Red Hood swept into the apartment and dismantled his mask, just as he saw his husband standing, or rather balancing atop a ladder, adjusting a picture. Christ Almighty, not even a half an hour and the man was already trying to kill himself.

Dick didn't turn around, "I know what you're going to say, and I swear if you start micromanaging everything I can and can't do, I will leave you right now, you hear me?"

Jason snapped his mouth shut. _Right then_. "I got your stupid report." His eyes went to Dick's ass, which was a nice view if he said so himself. "You know that Andy's still got a thing for Nightwing, right?"

Dick hummed as he climbed down the ladder, "It's just hero worship. I can't exactly help that."

"Sure you can. In fact, you can start by getting a different costume," Jason suggested as Dick snatched the file from his hand before giving him a quick kiss. The older man's body was still tight as ever, but Jason knew little about pregnancy and how long it would be before that would change. The idea was both exciting and just the tiny bit terrifying, "I'm thinking burlap sack with a bag over your head. You can be Bagboy."

"Hilarious," Dick grumbled as he looked through the report before gazing back at Jason. "You sure you really want to do this for me?"

"Hey if it keeps you from running around and putting yourself-" Jason corrected himself pointedly, " _both_ of you, in unnecessary danger, I'm more than happy to be your replacement."

"This isn't permanent, Jay."

Jason sighed, because of course he knew that, "I know."

Even if he sort of wished it kind of was, he knew he couldn't be that selfish to Dick. He couldn't take away something so important to him.

Jason loved him too much for that.

Something pinched him and it took a moment for Jason to realize it was himself. He was pinching himself-his hands, he could move them. Never mind that his mind had clearly taken a turn for the worst, and he had no idea if he was dreaming or what, all he knew was he could finally move his arms and hands freely.

Now if only someone could hear him or he had something to write with-

A slow building fury was building inside him and for a moment Jason swore someone had said something, not at him, but rather inside him.

Jason blinked, the feeling that was growing wasn't just rage-it was also-

-Sorrow, hatred, and most of all, _regret_.

Jason shook the emotions away, but they never truly left him. They sat and festered at it felt like something was spreading inside him, though he couldn't explain what. He needed to-

Barb-she was at the computer, Bats had taken off for a routine patrol and Barb was giving him feedback over the intercom, if Jason could just-

"Wait."

Huh? Jason stopped his movements at the voice. A voice that seemed to be coming from right next to him, except there was no one there.

Great, now he was hearing things too.

"You're not hearing things now shut up and don't you dare _fucking_ move."

Jason stilled.

As soon as he looked up he saw his own face boring down on him from outside the cell and Jason knew then, despite his annoyance at his return, Jason knew he'd been wise to listen to the voice. He couldn't risk falling back into a state of unconsciousness or lose any of the progress he'd made physically, not now. He wasn't sure how or why the prick in his body was doing it, but somehow he knew the man was sapping the energy from him. Better to act defeated then rise up against him until Jason was fully ready.

Granted, he had acquired a voice now so that might put a damper on his progress, but-

"Stop bitching, at least you've still got a body to use. Sure it's not ours, but at least-"

"I'm sorry, did you just say _ours_?" Perfect, now Jason was feeding the delusions of the voice.

"Yours, _ours_ , what's the difference at this point?"

The body snatcher didn't bother to say anything, he seemed displeased about something, but he turned away from Jason and said a few words to Barb before taking off again.

The voice continued. "Listen to me very closely. I need you to get your head out of your ass and pay attention, because I swear to Christ if anything happens to my son because you're stuck in here like a goddamn vegetable, I will haunt you for the rest of your pathetic little life. Got it?"

Right well it looked like Jason didn't have to worry about losing his mind because clearly, it was already gone. First some weird ass dream and now this. Except-

Except-Jason was pretty sure he knew who he was talking to.

"You're him aren't you?" Jason didn't have to wait for a response, not that he got anything past a duh.

Jason sighed, because he was pretty sure he'd just taken the term talking to yourself to a whole new level.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

* * *

Andy Sullivan was thorough.

Almost alarmingly so.

Andy finished his tale on the valiant rescue that Tim found sounded pretty romanticized. He wasn't sure if Andy was a fan of trashy harlequin novels, but judging by the way he described Nightwing, as if he were some _god_ come straight down from heavens, Tim wondered if they were even talking about the same Nightwing.

Clearly, the man had been touched by the encounter in a way Tim couldn't understand, but Dick was a flirt at the best and worst of times, so maybe the idea of his infatuation wasn't as farfetched as it should have been.

Either way one thing appeared clear, Andy Sullivan-despite his best efforts to seem professional about the whole thing, was absolutely smitten.

Dammit Dick. Just- _dammit_.

Through it all, Tim kept face and _John Thomas_ remained enraptured on every word of the rescue Andy recounted, acting like a young man hearing his first real tale of a hero in action. Andy seemed pleased at Tim's enthusiasm.

Tim had to ask, he had to know how far Andy's desire went, "Do you ever wonder who he really is-without the mask I mean?"

Andy looked around, almost as if worried someone else might be listening. "I-I've been investigating-" He pursed his lips. "Do you want to see what I've found?"

Tim nodded and tried to stay naively interested, but his stomach was getting a little heavy. He waited with bated breath as Andy opened the first drawer to an oversized filing cabinet. "The truth is I've been following them for years."

 _Them?_

A large file fell on the desk in front of Tim.

Andy swept the folder open and Tim's heart nearly stopped.

Oh no-

 _This_ -there was no way this could be good.

Charts, timelines and newspaper clippings, but mostly pictures, so many pictures it made Tim's head hurt.

Tim knew from personal experience, just where this sort of information lead. It was his own extensive investigation that had led him to Batman in the first place.

Funny how all those years ago, he'd been exactly in Andy shoes-yet this felt, _different_ somehow.

Just how much did this man know?

It wasn't just Nightwing, though there were more pictures of him than anyone else, but there was Batman and of course Robin and Tim tried not to cringe, Red Robin.

Not good-definitely not good.

Tim kept up the facade, "This is so awesome."

No, not awesome-this was not awesome at all.

What bothered Tim more than anything was the way Andy kept returning to one picture in particular, almost as if in reverence. His fingers ghosted over the image, but Tim swore he wanted to- _stroke_ it or something.

It was of Nightwing.

Andy smiled and it was still that peaceful looking smile, but Tim was suddenly less impressed and a little more creep out than he had been moments ago. "I just wish I knew who he was-"

No, this was not awesome-

"You don't know then?" Tim slumped. "Bummer."

Andy's eyes finally left the picture and Tim liked to consider himself a good reader of people so when Andy replied a simple, "Not yet."-

Tim heard _I will_ instead.

Not awesome at all.

* * *

Dick leaned against Tim's car. He'd walked around for a while, hoping to calm his nerves and unwind the suddenly nervous twist in his stomach, but truthfully he was just too anxious to get back to Gotham to even think straight. His fingers drummed against his thigh in a reflexive twitch. He needed to see Jackson, needed to see-

 _Dammit._

Dick's finger hovered over the name in his phone, maybe if he could just hear him-maybe then his stomach would stop buzzing this anxious energy and he could just-

 _Dammit._

Dick didn't throw his phone or pound Tim's car with his fist like he really wanted to. His heart was just beating too fast anymore and he needed some way to relieve the tension, the anxiety that was driving him up the wall.

He almost thought about going into the station, but decided against it. He didn't need anyone he knew seeing him having any of these-Dick honestly didn't even know what to call them. Episodes maybe? Sometimes they were long, detailed and Dick could see and feel everything as if it were actually happening, sometimes they were merely seconds that blipped so fast he could barely process them. Regardless of what they were, Tim needed to hurry up because he was really considering picking up his phone again and he wasn't sure how Jason would react to-

Two lines, a plus, positive, it was-

Dick watched Jason stare at the stick for what felt like hours. At first he didn't seem to understand what it meant. "The hell is this?"

Dick cringed at how carelessly he swung the object backwards and forwards like he didn't know what he was supposed to be looking at. He handed him the instructions from the box, pointing to the only real information Jason needed. Jason mumbled the word out loud and it took a few times before he finally turned to Dick, eyes wide.

"Is this, is this for _real_?"

Dick nodded, not knowing what else to do. Jason just looked at him, his mouth twitched wildly, whatever words he attempted to say were jumbling up on his tongue. "Do you-" his hand twisted in his hair, "Should I-" his eyes flew to Dick's stomach in what could only be called horror, "What should I do?"

Dick didn't spout back the obvious line you've already _done_ enough. It was too easy and Dick was hardly in the mood for jokes right now.

"You don't do anything, Jason. It's just-" Dick waved at the stick helplessly. "That's just what it is."

"Could it, could it be wrong?"

Dick tried not to let his heart clench at the question. "One maybe," he ventured. He nodded at the object again, "That's the tenth one I've taken."

Dick _really_ wanted to be sure.

Jason just stared.

Dick was almost afraid he'd broken him. He hesitated, trying to keep calm, as Jason kind of looked like he might have cemented himself to the floor, "Are you okay with this?"

Jason licked his lips, eyes too bright, "I-are you?"

Dick hated when Jason did that, turning his answer into questions. The truth was Dick didn't know if he was okay with it yet. They were both still young and he hadn't really put a child in the equation of their lives yet. Still- "Jason, I need an answer. I need to know if this is okay. I need to know if we can do this."

"Do this?" Jason's eyes flickered with something as he took a long, hard blink and frowned. He stood a bit taller, "What do you mean _if_ we can do this?" He pointed at the stick carelessly and Dick wasn't sure if he knew what was at the end of it or if he just didn't care. "With all the shit we've seen and been through, _this_ , this we can do. We can definitely _do_ this"

The bravado of it was a bit forced, but Dick smiled at him regardless.

And as quickly as it came Jason seemed to deflate, "Right, so um-what exactly _do_ we do then?"

Dick shrugged, "The only thing we can I guess. We wait."

Jason looked a bit lost, "Wait?"

Dick snorted, "This isn't a thirty minutes or it's free pizza delivery Jay, babies takes time." He may have still been bordering somewhere in the denial stage, but Dick really wanted to keep Jason level headed about this while it still felt possible to do so. In another few months he might need the other man to be his rock, instead of the other way around.

"So while Junior's cooking in the oven there," Jason motioned at Dick's midsection. "We just _wait_ till he, she, _whatever_ is-done?"

Dick's lips popped, "Pretty much-" He nearly lost his breath when Jason suddenly swept him into his arms. "Jay," he breathed, trying to get his equilibrium back.

"Jesus Dick, we're going to be-" He gulped and Dick could feel his grin. Jason kissed the top of his head, "You're amazing, you know that?"

Dick let his head rest on Jason's chest. It was too hard not to grin like a fool back and Dick didn't even try, "So I've heard."

Tim's voice once again brought him back to reality and Dick looked up to see the younger man shaking hands with what could only be Andrew Sullivan, Tim's voice was distorted and far away, but Dick could see him nod at the other man before waving a goodbye.

Andrew waved back at Tim and made as if to turn, but something seemed to stop him. His body moved back almost instinctively and Dick knew it was impossible the man would scout him out from this far away, especially with other people around, but he swore Andrew Sullivan was-

The guy at the bar was staring.

Dick was well into his second, or was it third, shot. Feeling the gaze, he snorted and swept his hair back in what was an admittedly presumptuous, even pompous move. He openly taunted the man to just keep on staring because he wasn't giving him or any other bastard in this place the satisfaction of even so much as a smile.

Because men sucked. Men sucked and he hated them all.

He hated men and he especially hated Jason Todd.

Stupid, arrogant, noncommittal, sexy as hell Jason Todd.

The guy moved closer without Dick even realizing it. One minute Dick blinked and he was across the room the next he was right next to him.

Dude was definitely quick on his feet.

The first thing Dick noticed upon seeing him closer was that he looked a bit like Jason.

Which immediately made Dick want to leave the stool right then and there.

He wanted to, but he didn't. This guy may have _looked_ like Jason, but something in his demeanor was a bit more tight, restricted, not loose and arrogant and he almost seemed apprehensive about approaching Dick.

It was kind of- _cute_.

The man smiled almost shyly at him and Dick, despite his best efforts otherwise, couldn't help returning a smile of his own.

Not even five minutes of vowing off men and he was already back in the saddle-

Even Dick had to admit how pitiful it was.

Andrew, _everyone calls me Andy_ , Sullivan held out his hand as Richard, _everyone calls me Dick_ , Grayson shook it.

The drinks came and the talking became easier with each sip.

"A cop, huh?" Now that was something Dick could definitely work with. "That must be exciting."

Andy toyed with the rim of his glass and sighed, "Not really, I just started and I'm a bit more of a pencil pusher than anything. Nothing exciting about filling out reports all day."

Dick nodded, "You'd rather be on the streets where the action is, I'm guessing?"

Andy smiled, "Sort of." he scrubbed at his hair in a way Jason sometimes did.

 _Dammit_ , Dick needed to stop doing that. Comparing this guy to Jason was completely unfair to both of them.

And why was he still thinking about Jason anyway?

Andy continued softly, "Truth is my parents, my father I should say, he really wanted me to be a lawyer. All the men in my family are lawyers and I was supposed to be one too."

Dick took a sip of his drink, "Family business, huh?"

"Something like that." Andy admitted. "I was set on it too, I really thought that's all I wanted to be, just like my dad and his dad before him. And then-" he stopped.

"Then what?"

"No," Andy shook his head and chuckled. "You'll think it's really stupid."

"Try me," Dick grinned, probably a little tipsy by now, "-and for the record I happen to like stupid sometimes."

Andy took the encouragement with a small smile, "And then I met-him."

"Him?" Dick raised a brow.

"I wasn't exactly a strong kid, kind of puny and well I was teased a lot, I guess. One day it got really bad and he stood up for me. I know some people might not believe me, that some people don't even think he's real, but I saw him."

Aw, another Batman worshiper. Dick hid his smile behind this glass, "Batman huh? That's not stupid Andy a lot of people are inspired by him. If he's the reason you became a cop, I think that's great."

Andy surprised him by shaking his head, "No, not Batman."

Dick blinked in confusion, "Oh, sorry I just assumed-"

"Robin."

Dick nearly dropped his glass, "Robin?" He tried to wrack his brain. Obviously, given Andy's age it couldn't be Damian or Tim, and it was really unlikely to be Jason either. Dick tried to wrack his brain. Had he ever helped a kid being bullied? More times than he could count probably, but he couldn't place ever having seen Andy's face before.

Dick almost felt like apologizing for not remembering him, but of course, he couldn't.

"But see here's the thing," Andy hadn't finished. "That was over ten years ago. Obviously, we were both kids then, but now I figure he has to be about our age. So there's no way the Robin now is the same guy."

Dick had to agree, because how could he slap away logic like that and not sound like a complete moron? "I guess that makes sense."

"Anyway, I've kind of been-" Andy cleared his throat, "studying them over the years and I've noticed that Batman seems to stay the same. His fighting style and look never really change, Robin's does."

Dick cocked his head, "Does it? I've never really noticed."

Andy nodded, "I think this new guy-" he leaned closer and Dick felt his breath hitch, "-Nightwing, I've seen how he moves and it might be a bit of a stretch, but I think he's, or rather _was_ -Robin."

Dick remained as calm as he could. He chuckled and shrugged, but inwardly he couldn't stamp out the unease slowly building, "That's kind of a big assumption, but even if he is, so what?"

"Like I said it might sound stupid, but he's sort of the reason why I came here to Bludhaven."

Dick bit his lip and shifted, "You want to thank him or something?"

"Not just that," Andy took the rest of his drink as if hoping to garner more courage from it. He stared into the empty glass afterward. "I want him to train me. I want to be like them. I want to help people, I want to make a difference."

Dick gulped, he had no clue where to take this, but he was guilt ridden just seeing the shine of sincerity in Andy's eyes, "I think you can help people just by being what you are, Andy. You don't need some stupid mask to be important. I-I can tell your special all on your own."

Andy's eyes shot to him and he flushed, "You're sweet and-" Dick knew he'd already seen the mark, but his eyes flitted there again before he finished, "-totally _gorgeous_ ," he stuttered, "if you don't mind me saying so."

Dick wasn't sure he minded in the least. Andy seemed like a genuinely kind person and could turn out not only to be a valuable asset to him, but a friend as well. Granted, Dick would have to be careful the man didn't become too obsessed, but if Andy could help in some way, if Nightwing could show him how important he could be as just Andy Sullivan the Police Officer, then maybe-maybe this could work.

He had Andy put his number in his phone and pointedly ignored the three missed calls from Jason Todd.

The car door opened and someone pushed him in. Dick flopped in the seat with barely any resistance.

Tim slammed his door shut before opening his own. He turned to Dick with a face that could have soured already rotten milk, " _Dammit_ Dick."

Dick's brow shot up, "Is that how we're saying hello now?"

Tim pursed his lips, "I'm not even going to ask why you're here, but seriously you've got to-you've got to cool it man."

"Cool it?"

"I don't know what you did or said, but you've got poor Andy Sullivan salivating at the sound of your name."

Dick frowned, "Tim, I told you I've never met him before."

"Maybe you haven't, but Nightwing sure has and let me tell you, this guy's all but ready to propose marriage to him."

Dick stared at his hands, suddenly ashamed at himself, "I know."

"You know?" Tim asked before he realized. "You had another one of those- _seeing_ things didn't you?"

Dick nodded, "More than one actually." A lot more.

Tim cursed, "Dick I think we've got a really big problem on our hands and it's not just the guy in the cell."

"I'm aware that I'm not exactly on my A game Tim, but-"

Tim shook his head, "It's not just whatever's wrong with you. I think Andy Sullivan, _this_ Andy Sullivan is right on the brink of finding out who you," Tim motioned between them, "-who we all are. You should see this guy's collection of stuff he's got. If he doesn't know already, he's definitely close."

"This just gets better and better," Dick grumbled. "Tell me Tim, when was the last time you had to take a pregnancy test?"

Tim choked on air and fell into a coughing fit that didn't let up.

Dick's arms crossed, "Because I had to watch myself take one and let me tell you that tends to ruin a guy's day."

"God," Tim choked, "Dick I-" he continued to cough, "You know what, we're heading back. Do us both a favor and don't ever bring that up again-ever."

* * *

Jason wanted the other Jason out. He wanted him out like yesterday. His presence brought about a pulling, a pushing. Like Jason's head was too full and it suddenly might explode at any second.

Not only was he miffed, Jason was confused.

"What the hell is-what do you want from me?"

Apparently, his other self has no time for pleasantries. _"I_ _want you to shut up and let me think_."

"Think?" He had a disembodied voice in his head that sounded and felt a hell of a lot like himself and it wanted to think? "What the hell is there to think about?"

He had to ask-

Jason wasn't sure what had changed exactly, but if the age old idea of pregnancy glow held any truth whatsoever, Jason Todd was convinced his husband was the sexiest, glow-iest man there ever was.

"Oh Jesus," Jason tried to pull his own mind back, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't.

This was so not _fucking_ cool.

Dick was gorgeous and Jason had truthfully never been so turned on by someone doing something as simple as laundry in his whole life. Dick-the man who made the white towels pink because he forgot a red sock-was doing laundry and although Jason knew he should fear for the state of their clothes, he really couldn't be bothered to care at that moment. Let the man discolor everything they owned, if he continued to look this sexy doing it, Jason could hardly complain.

Slightly unkempt in a pair of Jason's old clothes, which fit better with the bit of stomach bulge he'd acquired, the man was giving the poor washer a proper beating, overstuffing the machine and slamming the lid shut with a curse.

Watching him made Jason want to do all types of wrong.

"I love it when you get all domestic on me."

Dick turned to Jason, his eyes swept the Red hood outfit and landed on the helmet in Jason's hand with a frown. He sighed and pushed some hair from his eyes before assaulting the dryer next, tossing their thankfully still white sheets in a basket, "You better be careful out there tonight. Tim said there's been a lot of activity on his end and he thinks it has something to do with that weapons cache Penguin's men have been whispering about."

God, Jason loved this man. Doing laundry and talking _work_ all in the same breath. Dick shut the dryer door and began attempting to fold. Dick had always folded things like a crazed animal with all thumbs, but Jason could give two shits that his current house husband was crap at his housekeeping. The man was trying and Jason knew staying out of the sky was driving him crazy.

"Tell you what, hot stuff," Jason said as he crept closer behind Dick until the man's back was flush against his chest. "How about after I take care of that beaked nosed bastard's little crew, I pick up some chocolate and whip cream and we-"

Dick made a face as he interrupted, "No Jason, no chocolate. I swear I'll puke if I even smell it."

Jason frowned, "I didn't mean-" he rethought, "-well _technically_ I guess I did, but-"

Dick suddenly whirled and put his arms around Jason's neck, his voice lowered and for a moment Jason thought he was going to suggest something even more dirty.

Oh _please_ yes.

"What I really want is-" Dick's lip upturned.

Jason gulped and held his breath.

"-onion rings."

Dirty indeed.

"Oh really?" Jason grinned and wagged a brow, pulling the man as close as he dared-baby in the middle and all that. He all but purred, "And what crazy plans do you have for those, exactly?"

Dick furrowed his brow and pulled away, "I plan to eat them, Jay. What else would I do with them?"

"Eat them?" Jason nearly groaned, realizing they were clearly not on the same page here, "Dick there's a whole freezer of ice cream, why don't you just eat that?"

Dick waved the notion of four tubs worth of ice cream away, "I don't want that, I want onion rings."

So much for any fun then. Jason would just have to settle with dirtying up more clothes and watching Dick clean them, "Fine, but you're going to eat that damn ice cream in there too whether you like it or not."

Dick scoffed at him, "You like it so bad, you have it. I swear it's like you're trying to make me even fatter." His eyes moved down to his stomach with a frown, "Trust me I don't need your help with that."

Jason snorted. Dick still had four months to go, he looked and felt thicker, there was no denying that, but it was nice, it felt right. Dick looked healthy which made him that much sexier. And hell-more cushion for the pushing, right? "I just want you to be happy."

Dick hit him lightly, "I don't need ice cream for that Jay, I am happy."

"You're bored."

"I-" Dick looked like he was going to agree, but stopped. He pointed to a book he had laying open on the washing machine, "I'm going to start learning."

Jason's eyes bugged as he noticed it was a Cook Book. Oh _Jesus_ , no. Dick was going to burn the place down.

Dick placed a hand on the washer to help stretch his aching back, "You're right Jason, I am bored and unless you want me to become a hormonal, ice cream eating _cow_ , I need a hobby. And I thought you said you like me being domestic?"

 _Damn_ his choice of wording. "I do, it's just-could you find something a little less, I don't know, dangerous?"

Jason regretted it the moment he said it.

Dick gave a glare that Jason could tell was going to end him in the doghouse if he didn't backtrack.

 _Fast_.

Jason looked at his wrist, "I think I hear Red Robin calling me. Better get going."

Smooth.

Jason smacked Dick on the lips and was out the window, calling back promises of onion rings and zipping away as fast as his line would carry him.

"Stop! I get it, just stop," Jason groaned to his other self, breaking the image with a slight feeling of nausea-he couldn't take much more of this- _whatever_ this was. "You were happy, married and having a kid. Kudos to you, but can you please leave the lovey dovey shit out of my head?"

He really didn't care how much the other Jason needed to think. He knew _this_ Jason never needed to think of Dick Grayson as some kind of domesticated, pregnant housewife.

Ever.

Not just a housewif _e_ , _his_ housewife.

 _His_ housewife who was also _pregnant_ with his child.

Jason can't let that part go. Getting married was one thing, having a child with another man was absolutely _unfathomable_ to him.

"What's with that?"

 _"What's with what?"_

"Dudes getting pregnant. Since when is that a thing?"

 _"You really want to discuss basic anatomy? Jesus, didn't you ever take sex ed? He's marked, a carrier-lots of guys are. Any other stupid questions?"_

"Right," Jason felt a bit irritated at the condescension in the voice. What was the point arguing what any of that meant? "Either way, can you stop the walk down memory lane? I swear if I have to watch the kid's birth-" Or worse, how he was conceived- "I'm going to lose it."

 _"Look, I'm sorry if my memories bother you, but it's not exactly like I know how to control anything in here."_

Well, that wasn't worrisome in the least-

"How did this even happen? How are you _here_?"

 _"I've just watched Dick, not my Dick but still Dick-getting swindled by a body stealing asshole, talking like he wants the two of them to adopt my damn kid-it doesn't matter how the_ **_fuck_ ** _I got here. Whatever he's planning, it's not going to happen, because we're going to stop it."_

"And how are _we_ going to do that exactly?"

 _His other self hesitated, "I think-I think you need to see something."_

Jason's pulse quickened, he still wasn't completely convinced he wasn't hallucinating all this. Voice and all, "See what?"

 _"Shut up and let me concentrate-I'm going to try and-_

"Jason, I don't think that goes like that-"

"Shut up, I know what I'm-" Jason bit out another curse as one of the screws went flying to the other side of the room.

Tim Drake sighed, "Honestly, I know there's that saying about guys not reading directions, but come on man, use your head. That clearly doesn't go there."

"I am using my head," Jason was, _sort of_ , he was also kind of in a panic. When had building baby furniture become like performing brain surgery? He waved the paper at Tim, "And for your information the directions are only in French and German."

Tim frowned, "Can't you read both?"

"Not the point."

"The _real_ point," Damian Wayne was assembling another piece of the set on his side, "is that you should have done this week ago. What kind of father to be are you? Grayson could be having your daughter any day now and you're not even the least bit prepared."

"Son," Tim countered as Damian glared at him. "Admit it Damian, it's a boy. Right Jason?"

Jason hummed as he jammed another post into place, "I sure hope so." Dick, as was typical, felt the need to include the family in the process of everything, including the naming of their unborn child apparently. Granted, Jason may have shot down his chance by suggesting Jason or Dick Jr.-but he was kind of kidding and Dick made up his stubborn little mind that since Jason was going to be an _ass_ about it, the name decision was going to be granted to Tim and Damian-

Because the man had lost more than just his trim waistline, after months of feeling cooped up, Dick had gone completely bonkers-just as Jason had feared he would. The moment Jason pointed this out, that uncles didn't choose the name for their nieces or nephews, Dick became even more attached to the idea, probably just to spite Jason for ever questioning him.

Damian was convinced it was a girl and Tim swore it was a boy, they fought about it constantly.

Of course, Dick just made it worse by refusing to have it confirmed either way.

"Just because you're marked too doesn't mean you're automatically right," Tim pointed out. "The size and positioning suggests a boy and you know it. You just don't want to admit I'm right."

Damian's eyes flashed and for a moment Jason swore there was going to be a brawl. Jason swore if either of them got blood on Dick's clean floors, he would kill them both.

Damian was indeed marked like Dick and Tim knew it hit a sore spot for the young teenager, but right now Jason didn't care about any of that. He only cared about keeping peace and not rousing the very irritable man currently sleeping in the bedroom.

Jason hissed at them both to quiet down, "I swear to god if either of you wake him up, I will personally toss both your asses out the window."

Getting Dick to sleep comfortably for any amount of time these days was hard enough as it was and if either of these yahoos thought their debate over the sex of _his_ child was worth waking the man for-they had another thing coming.

That being said, _Jackson_ -though not Jason's preferred name by any means-was leaps and bounds better than whatever abominable name Damian had chosen for a girl.

Ancient ancestral name, or whatever bullshit Damian had spouted about his choice, be _damned_. If Jason couldn't spell it, he had no desire to even try to pronounce it, and he sure as hell wasn't naming his poor little girl it either.

No, Jason was rooting for a boy and he held no qualms about admitting it.

 _"Oops. Not that."_

Jason groaned, "We're not going to go through your whole life story, are we?"

 _"No, I just-"_

Dick's mouth was hot, electric and inviting. He tasted so good and Jason could never get enough. The exquisite man was pulled flushed to him, ready and willing, numbing Jason's mind with the feel of his cool finger on his-

Jason immediately pulled out of that one with every fiber of his being, "No. Goddamn you, _no_ , just-"

 _"Hey, it was my honeymoon."_

"I don't give a shit, I-"

A bundle was placed in Jason's hands.

A boy, it was a boy. Thank Christ and all his seven reindeer's or whatever, it was a boy. Jason Todd held his son for the first time and instantly he knew nothing, _nothing_ in his life would mean more to him than this tiny person in his arms. A person he'd never met before, but knew he loved more than life itself.

Jackson Damian Todd.

Jason saw the name written down on the certificate and looked down at his newborn son with a wince, "I just want you to know I had nothing to do with that. If you grow up bitter about it, blame your dad and uncles for their brilliant ideas, okay?"

For some reason, he couldn't stop smiling. Everyone else might have _thought_ their baby was perfect, but Jason had no doubt, as he held the small bundle in his arms, rocking him gently in a way that felt surprisingly natural to him, that his actually _was_.

Jackson Damian Todd was absolutely perfect.

And _nothing,_ no force on heaven or earth, was ever going to stop Jason from keeping Jackson safe.

Nothing.

Jason waited for more, or for his other self to say something, or move onto to another memory like he seemed to want to do, but his mind remained eerily quiet. "You still there?"

It took what felt like forever for a response, _"I-"_

"What?" Jason knew the memory had to be sentimental to him, but as the scene finished there was such a wave of grief and sorrow, Jason felt physically ill, "What is it?"

 _"I don't know if I can do it. Dammit, I just-give me a minute."_

His other self sounded stiff and distant and Jason recognized the tone as something being wrong, like really, _really_ wrong.

"What's-"

 _"Give me a_ **_fucking_ ** _minute!"_

Jason shut his inner mind's mouth. He waited until the other Jason was ready to talk again, ignoring the deep seeded fear that the other man's-spirit or whatever was clearly grieving over something.

He couldn't take it anymore, "You're dead, aren't you?"

The coldness that suddenly flooded his bones was all the answer Jason needed.

Jason sighed, he honestly had nothing to say and he let his other self a moment of silence.

* * *

Something was different-something had changed.

Todd it was, he knew something was different about Todd.

Just as he'd feared.

Dammit, he hadn't expected this to happen.

"Smart boy, clever boy-even your daddy said so. So clever he can't even keep a simple plan together. What are you going to do now?"

He didn't answer; the voice didn't need to know. He didn't have to explain himself to anyone. The walls were falling, he could feel it. He just needed a bit more time.

Just a bit more.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

* * *

Jackson was definitely Dick Grayson's son. There was no denying that.

Damian wasn't at all that captivated by the sight, that was clearly Gordon's job, but still, it was a bit-surprising. Maybe not remarkable, but definitely surprising.

Jackson was, for lack of a better word- _tumbling_. It wasn't anything grand and a bit shaky, but it was still undeniably tumbling. The joy on his face as he did it wasn't far placed to Grayson's when he'd discovered something new or found his latest thrill. It was mixed with enough of Jackson's own unique features and childlike mannerisms so it wasn't identical, but it was close.

Still, it wasn't _what_ the child was doing, simply flipping himself over using his head as balance, so much as it was the _way_ he was doing it.

Jackson was putting on a show.

His actions seemed surprisingly organized, coordinated even and he was set about placing things around him, pulling pillows and a stool, as if he were setting a stage. As if he were- _performing_.

Damian wasn't sure if he was annoyed or impressed. For a toddler in diapers that still wobbled a bit when he walked, the boy had an amazing amount of dexterity. Not perfect by any means, but he was definitely in his element. It seemed a familiar pastime and he seemed completely at home doing it.

It was odd to think of it that way. That Jackson had undoubtedly done this many times before in his time, in his world, a world where Damian might very well have been much more involved in this child's life.

Or rather _had_ been, if Pennyworth's words held any truth.

It seemed pointless to think about, but Damian couldn't deny the slight clench in his gut at _that_ Damian's presumed fate.

Gordon wasn't helping matters of making Jackson feel like any less of a star, clapping and applauding everything the boy did, much to Jackson's amusement. Clearly her maternal instincts weren't as far off as Damian had first assumed. She was still a doting female, oohing and cooing at a child merely because he was just that-a child.

Damian was far less vocal about his amazement-if he had any to begin with, but he was also distracted.

Todd was lurking in the corner. Todd was lurking and biting his thumb and it was obvious from the frown on his face that instead of being the least bit happy to see _pretend_ son looking so delighted, he was clearly upset, distracted by something. He was looking through Jackson, not _at_ him.

He eventually caught Damian's eye and the smile he tried to give was lukewarm at best.

Damian felt his hackles rise, not sure why a simple gesture made a prickle of unease go down his spine. Todd made him irritated at the best of times, but this, this felt different. Jason seemed-

"See something you like, D-man?" Jason's lip curled. "Maybe you should take a picture? Lasts longer that way."

And just like that Jason was back to his aggravating sneer and Damian wanted to roll his eyes at how annoying the man was. Jason seemed to snap out whatever he was brooding over, but his mood shift seemed almost for Damian's benefit rather than his own. Like he was going through the motions, but it seemed-halfhearted.

It hit a raw nerve that sparked a whole slew of questions, starting with how Todd was managing to heal so quickly and why the man in the cell was suddenly a vegetable, but before Damian could act on asking either of these things, a small hand was suddenly pulling at him. An indiscernible sound escaped from Jackson, but it was clear the boy wanted his attention.

On instinct, Damian was ready to shove him off, but Gordon's chair approaching stopped him. The air changed and everyone seemed to notice. Jason looked decidedly uncomfortable, but tried his best to hide it by giving a snort and a _whatever_ and walking away.

But Damian wasn't letting him off that easy. Not this time.

He took one step and Barbara flew in front of him and he nearly growled. Her eyes were understanding, but firm as she said, " _I'll_ talk to him."

Damian felt the need to get it off his chest, to say it out loud. "Something's wrong with him." He didn't know what, but there was definitely something off with Todd.

"I know," Gordon replied evenly and not unkindly. "And I think I know what it is. Damian, I think it might be better if I handled this. Please, just let _me_ talk to him."

Damian was going to argue, but there was a second pull on his arm, "What?" he asked irritably. Jackson didn't answer, not in any intelligible way. He merely pointed when he saw Damian was looking at him. Pointed back at the play area he'd constructed himself, an odd sound bubbling from his throat. Damian sighed, "Gordon, go back and praise this child some more, he clearly wants to impress you. I'll deal with Todd."

Gordon looked like she was holding in a smile. She bit her lip and cleared her throat, "Damian, trust me when I say it's really a lot better if I talk to Jason. You two will only fight and that's the last thing we need around here," Her mouth lifted. "And besides-" she winked at Jackson, "I don't think it's me who he's really trying to impress. Right sweetheart?"

Jackson responded with a squeal. He ran back and threw himself atop a pillow. He peeked his head back at them, specifically Damian, to see if he was watching him before hiding his face with a giggle. Damian frowned at the spectacle, not sure what the boy was trying to accomplish with his behavior. It distracted him enough that one minute he was watching Jackson and the next he turned and Gordon was gone.

Damian's lip twitched, he was pretty sure he'd just been swindled.

Swindled by a toddler, who was giving him an innocent, yet pointed looking smile.

Oh yes, this was definitely Grayson's child-

And if Jackson had to have such unfortunate parentage, let him at least have the intelligence to be a little more like a Grayson and a little less like a Todd.

"Fine," Damian agreed. "But if you're going to impress anyone, we need to work on your form."

Jackson looked at him, the end of the pillow stuck rather messily in his mouth.

Damian cringed, "Among other things."

* * *

The breakdown was over a hot dog. A stupid thing in retrospect, but Tim had stopped for gas and Dick was hungry and there weren't many options, so he ordered a hotdog that looked like it'd been bred in salmonella.

Big mistake.

"You are aware that cravings have been scientifically proven to be mostly psychological, right?

Dick took another bite of what had to be the grossest, yet most _delicious_ hot dog he'd ever eaten. His brow rose as he chewed open mouthed, "Is that right?"

Damian's face was pure revulsion and Dick felt a twinge of accomplished pride at how disgusted he looked.

Dick finally swallowed, "Do tell."

Damian scowled, "It's an entitled response brought on by the brain, probably mostly attributed to the term _eating for two_."

"Huh, well I'll be," Dick offered vaguely. "Tell me Dr. Wayne, where _did_ you get your medical degree from anyway?"

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm," Damian snapped. "I'm merely concerned."

"Concerned about what? My eating habits?" Dick asked licking some relish from his fingers. Although he'd put himself on light duty as far as the crime fighting went, he wasn't about to lock himself in his apartment just yet. Getting around wasn't as easy given the new added heaviness of a six month baby bump he wasn't used to, but it didn't make him an invalid and although Jason insisted that he would go and get whatever he needed, what Dick really _needed_ was some fresh air. And although Dick swore it would be his husband he had to fight for freedom, surprisingly, it wasn't Jason who had become the territorial pitbull around him.

It was Damian.

Moody, mopey Damian Wayne who was clearly having some issues of his own he refused to acknowledge, much less talk about. He nodded to the question as he watched Dick devour the rest of his impromptu meal before he finally looked away.

"Sure you didn't want some?" Dick asked as he tossed the wrapper in a nearby trashcan.

Damian shook his head and continued to glare, not really _at_ Dick, but rather at everything and everyone who dared to pass the bench they were sitting on. Damian twitched and looked decidedly miserable as he pulled the hood of his jacket up at the sudden chill in the air. Turning thirteen had clearly done hell on the boy's hormones and Dick couldn't help feeling sorry for the obviously conflicted and confused teenager.

Dick remembered the age well, a hectic, uncomfortable time in any young man's life. He knew Damian just needed time to figure things out and come to terms with what was happening to him, both physically and emotionally. The irony that Dick could use that statement on himself right now wasn't entirely lost on him.

Truthfully, they were both a mess of hormones and uncertainty.

Maybe it bonded them in some way and maybe it was the reason why Damian's biting words on his changing body and eating habits didn't really sting as much as they should have.

Dick sighed, "Is there something you'd like to say, Damian?"

Dick expected Damian to have the grace enough to realize he was being more than a little rude and to back down a bit.

He didn't.

"What I was trying to say is it's a known fact that men and women use pregnancy as an excuse to put on more weight than they need to. You're housing a new life Grayson-you want to ruin your own health, _fine_ , but maybe _she'd_ like some nutrients that didn't come purely from grease, processed sugar and fat." His eyes flitted to Dick's middle with a severe frown. This seemed a bit unfair as they were sitting down, making his stomach much more obvious. "Eating a salad or two certainly wouldn't kill you."

Or Maybe, Dick decided, maybe Damian was just a rude little brat.

"Dick?"

Dick had been so focused on watching Damian; he hadn't even noticed the man coming towards them. The park wasn't exactly empty, but his instincts must have been really off not to sense Andy Sullivan until he was right in front of them.

Man, did Dick feel off his game anymore.

The taller man had a towel around his shoulders. His tight sleeveless shirt and athletic shorts as well as the flush and slight sheen of sweat all pointed to the obvious that Andy was out for a run. Dick knew Andy was concerned about physical fitness, but in the past few months since he'd last seen him, the man had definitely been doing some serious training. His body was fitter and tighter and he'd added more than a little muscle.

Dick on the other hand had been eating his way through ice cream and hot dogs and anything else he could really get his hands on like there was no tomorrow. His newest kick was French toast with extra syrup, which was odd as Dick didn't even like French toast. After he passed the first trimester the morning sickness had mostly subsided so now anything he ate pretty much stuck.

Seeing Andy's washboard abs through the thin shirt really took Dick's self-esteem down a few notches.

"Andy, it's good to see you." Dick said with a smile. He tried in vain to shift himself so maybe he wouldn't look so big. "How are you?"

Despite the attempt Andy's eyes went right to Dick's stomach, and really how could they not? "I think that's what I should be asking you. You're-" he looked like he couldn't decide what to say and settled on "-wow."

Dick laughed and mimicked, "Yeah I know- _wow_." He sighed with false melancholy, "How the tables have turned. I've turned into Jabba the Hut and you've become Mr. Universe."

Andy flushed at the compliment, but shook his head, "No Dick, you look-you look amazing."

Dick snorted, "Seriously Andy, you don't have to-"

"I mean it," Andy's eyes seemed slightly brighter, though it could have been the red flush of his skin making the blue more prominent. He wet his lips, "You look really good."

Damian's eyes were like steel, slicing between the two men suspiciously. He made an aggressive sound that made Dick frown at him.

"Damian," Andy turned and addressed him with an easy smile. "How are you?"

"Apparently, not as good as you are," Damian snapped. "Is this a normal thing for you? Do you normally go around hitting on pregnant, _married_ men?"

"Damian-" Dick chided, giving him a stern look.

"Whatever," Damian griped back as he stood up. "I'm going for a walk."

Damian clearly wanted to shoulder Andy out of his way, but he didn't. He remained sulky, with his hand in his pockets and his head down. Dick got the feeling he was putting on a bit of a show, that he wasn't leaving so much as finding a better spot to watch them from. Dick wouldn't be surprised if Robin didn't suddenly make an appearance.

"I really didn't mean to-" Andy rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I wasn't-"

"I know," Dick assured him. "You'll have to forgive him; he's just been really moody lately. I'd almost swear he was the pregnant one some days."

"Do you mind if I-" Andy, ever the gentleman, motioned to the vacated seat.

Dick waved him on, "Of course."

"I meant what I said Dick, you really look good."

"Well Mr. Schwarzenegger, you're not looking too shabby yourself."

Andy just smiled, "How's Jason? He must be over the moon."

"He's-" Dick didn't know quite how to word it. "We're taking it one day at a time, he's-" Dick couldn't stop a smile as he fiddled with his wedding band. "He's got to be getting frustrated with me."

"Why's that?"

Dick sighed, "They always say you're hormonal and crabby and your feet and back hurt, but you never believe it until you really experience it. I think he just, doesn't know what to do sometimes. He wants to help me and he knows there's only so much he can do and that annoys him, I think."

Andy's tongue clicked, "Yeah, I can see that."

Upon closer inspection, Dick could see that while Andy looked more physically fit, he also looked-exhausted. "How's it going with the-" Dick motioned a mask around his eyes. He and Andy had been open about Andy's experiences in helping Nightwing. He never tried to be too pushy or obvious about it, but he was curious how Andy was really taking to Red Hood.

Andy laughed, but it didn't sound pleasant, "Terrible."

Dick held in a cringe, "Did something happen?'

"Yeah, Nightwing's gone MIA and I have to deal with some jackass that said he was his replacement called Red Hood."

Andy didn't curse often, so even the word jackass meant he was more than a little peeved.

"Is he that bad?"

Andy sighed, "It doesn't really matter if he's bad or not, it's just-it's not the same. It's not the same and I don't know where Nightwing is and it's," his blue eyes found Dick's, "honestly, it's driving me crazy."

Dick swallowed, but nodded in what he hoped was sympathy.

"I don't know if I did something or said something wrong or if maybe he's in trouble. Red Hood swears he's fine and he's giving him the information, but what if he's lying? I just wish I knew he was okay."

Dick put his hand reassuringly on the other man's shoulder, "I'm sure he's fine, Andy."

Andy threw the hand off in a fit Dick wasn't prepared for, "You don't know that!" he snapped suddenly. "Don't give me false reassurances when he could be dead or worse and I can't do anything about it! You're always saying things to try and make everyone think that everything's okay, but what if it's not? What if-" Andy fell off with an angry huff.

Dick gave him a moment to collect himself. He'd never seen Andy get this upset before and it was _startling_ to say the least. "Andy-" he tried softly.

"I'm sorry," Andy's hand was pulling at his hair and he looked at the ground as he repeated. "This isn't your fault; you're only trying to help. I'm sorry."

Dick tried again, "Andy-"

"I-I should go," Andy mumbled before rising. "I really am happy for you Dick and I'm sorry I said those things. I-I didn't mean it."

Dick nodded as he found Andy's eyes with all sincerity, "Andy, if you need to talk, you can always call me. I'm still your friend, don't forget that."

Andy's smile was shaky and forced, but still grateful, "Yeah, I will. Tell Jason I said hi and take care of yourself."

No sooner was he gone and Damian was back, sweeping in the vacated spot like he'd never left. "He's way too obsessed with Nightwing. Grayson, you need to-"

"I know."

Dick was worried. Andy had clearly taken to getting more physically in shape, yet he definitely seemed on edge.

Andy's anxiety was clearly boiling over.

And Dick couldn't help the feeling it was all his fault.

"Sir?" the bleach blonde woman behind the counter tried again. "Sir?"

Dick snapped his head toward the cashier, "Sir, did you still want your-" she motioned to the hot dog in her hand and Dick felt instantly nauseous.

He shook his head, wondering how in the hell he had ever wanted that _thing_ in the first place. "No. I'm sorry I-" he was backtracking and escaping out the door before he knew it.

As soon as the fresh air hit him, Dick wanted, felt like he _needed_ to throw up. His stomach knotted terribly and he grasped his knees as he panted and his vision swam. God, he just needed to-

Tim was beside him, his voice low in his ear, "Dick, are you-"

"I can't do anything."

Tim remained calm, despite the slight hysteria Dick knew was in his voice, "What do you mean you can't do anything?"

Dick stared at the ground, "It doesn't matter if it's a thought, looking at something, _feeling_ something. Tim, I can't do, say, look, or even _think_ about anything without-" He ground his palm angrily into his eyes and tried to stop the ringing in his ears.

Tim grabbed his shoulders and made him look into his eyes, "Dick, we're going to figure this out. You'll be fine," his voice was soft but convinced. "I promise Bruce, Barb and me, we'll figure this out. I swear."

Dick nodded shakily; he knew he needed to calm down. Getting hysterical wasn't going to help anything, but his blood was rushing too fast into his brain and that scene had just been too real. He'd felt, he'd felt-

Dick swallowed, he'd felt-

He'd felt another life moving inside him.

This time Dick did throw up and Tim barely managed to save his shoes an untimely demise from the reappearance of Dick's breakfast.

"Seriously man?"

Dick actually felt a little better afterward, but Tim groaned.

"I swear that better be all of it, because if you throw up in my baby, I'm tossing you out into the street."

At Dick's eye roll Tim persisted. "I mean it, even one inkling of upchuck and you're going into traffic, Grayson."

* * *

Barbara Gordon had known since that morning, since Jason had refused to eat breakfast with them, had tried to get Jackson to calm down only to get frustrated and stomp off, Barbara knew something was wrong.

"Jason-"

The man's shoulder's tensed at the sound of her voice, but he continued to ignore her. Jason ignored her to instead look down at the prisoner, something he seemed intent to do quite often since she'd arrived. She wasn't sure why but the word _obsessed_ popped into her mind more than once. Perhaps in some way, even though Jackson wasn't actually his child, some kind of paternal bond had formed and Jason felt this man was a risk.

A threat.

Jason had become a mamma bear and he hadn't even realized it.

Barbara held in a smile at the analogy, "You can try and ignore me, but I think you'll find I'm pretty persistent, Jason Todd."

Jason finally sighed and turned to her, "What?"

He looked tired, his skin was too pale and slightly drawn, but his eyes were razor sharp, almost angry. Barbara was hardly impressed, "It's okay."

Jason blinked as if he didn't understand, "What's okay?"

"How you feel about each other, I've seen it for months now and I want you to know-it's okay."

Jason's face seemed to cloud over in an emotion of uncertainty; it took a moment for him to respond, "Months?"

"Dick's an easy person to love, but they always say there's a thin line between love and hate. You two-" Barbara motioned a circle, "-you do this dance of hate and obsession like I've never seen before. You constantly tease each other and after this whole scenario, seeing what could essentially be your child if things in this world were different, I know that has to be-"

"You're right," Jason cut her off.

Barbara blinked and would have taken a step back, had she still had the use of her legs. She really hadn't expected Jason to admit to anything that easily. She expected a fight, some sarcasm, or a jab at her and her relationship with Tim. Instead, Jason had done the exact opposite.

"I love him Barb; I have for a long time." Jason's eyes were nowhere soft as he smiled, "There's just always been this- _thing_ holding me back, you know?" His eyes side swept to the cell and there was a pull at his lip.

Barbara swore she saw the man identified as Andrew Sullivan twitch from inside the cell, but she shook it off as a trick of the light.

Jason continued, giving her a smile that made her heart jump a beat. The look was almost- _alien_ on Jason's face, "But you're right, I can't let it stand in my way." He reached forward and absently tapped on the cell's clear wall. His voice fell to a near whisper, "Not anymore. Not ever again."

"Jason-"

"I can't hold it off, not anymore. I have to tell him."

"I-" Barbara stared at the man in absolute shock, never had she imagined this conversation to go so-

The man in the cell undoubtedly seized that time and Barbara was too focused on his sudden movement to realize Jason had already left.

Something bubbled in her gut, a feeling she tried to quiet, a feeling that she'd never seen Jason smile like that. The smile was a bit-

She hated to use the word, but it was the first one that came to mind.

 _Eerie_.

* * *

His whole body shook.

"Calm down-"

 _"I'll kill him."_

A slow and steady burning began to rise within him.

Not good, no way was that good-

"You have to calm down," Jason tried again.

 _"-kill him, I'll-"_

There was a flash and a pop and Jason wished more than anything that he could scream at the rippling pain that suddenly shot through his body.

"Stop-you have to-dammit, stop!"

 _"-kill him, I'll_ **_fucking_ ** _-kill-"_

Anger. Deep seeded anger, the likes of which Jason had never experienced before rose through his veins, buzzing through his body in a blast of heat that he was sure was going to barbeque his insides.

"-seriously, calm the hell down," Jason all but gasped. "You have to-"

Another wave hit him.

"-Fuck!"

Jason's body was on fire and he swore if the other man didn't stop, they were both going to go up in flames.

 _"-_ **_mother fucker_ ** _took everything."_

"I get it -I really do, but you've got to-"

 _"No! You don't get it-I won't-He can't. I can't-not again!"_

The heat that engulfed him was such that Jason was sure he'd been thrown in the very pits of hell itself. His vision was nothing but red.

Jason pushed through, but goddamn did it _fucking_ hurt.

"I get that you're pissed, but if you don't stop you're going to kill me!" he screamed, "Now, either calm the _fuck_ down or get the hell out of here!"

He was in _fucking_ agony-

And just like that-the heat, the pain, all of it turned to something else.

A bright, _soothing_ warmth filled the air. It was sudden, but gentle and brought about a feeling of contentment, as if the world had suddenly been swaddled in the softest blanket and all that was wrong had suddenly become right. Jason nearly sighed in ecstasy when a ballad of soft and soothing words filled his ears in a murmur as steady, long fingers brushed against his shoulders. The grip was light, then intensified into the feeling of those same fingers kneading into stiff, overused muscles. The movement was strong and steady and warm and- _oh god_ did it feel good.

"God Jay, you're so tense."

Jason could only moan in response. "Jesus, I swear you've got the hands of an angel."

Dick's lip quirked, "I thought I had the ass of an angel?"

"That too, but holy crap, this is-" Jason's breath hitched as Dick worked patiently through another knot. "You can always make it a masseuse if this whole masked crusader thing doesn't work out."

Dick snorted, "Glad to know I have options."

"I'm serious," Jason insisted over another contented sigh, "Though you may have to give _this_ particular customer a happy ending every once in a while."

Dick chuckled, "At the rate you're paying me? Dream on big boy."

"Yeah well-" Jason peered back, suddenly realizing how bad this must look, his two and half month pregnant husband giving _him_ a massage. "Shouldn't I be the one doing this for you?"

There was a hum as Dick finally worked out the last knot and Jason all but melted as he fell into the other man's lap, adjusting himself so he could look up at his husband. The buzz of the muted television was more relaxing than annoying and the dim lighting glowed against the contours of Dick's tan skin. _God_ , this man really could be an angel.

Dick's brow rose, "Is than an offer?"

Jason yawned, "Maybe later."

Dick's look said he clearly didn't believe that, but his hand swept softly through Jason's hair. Soothing and gentle, "Seriously though, you feel like a block of cement, what's got you so stressed?"

Jason sighed, "Honestly? It's your boy, Sullivan."

"Andy?"

"Yeah," Jason mocked. " _Andy._ "

Dick looked slightly confused, "What about him?"

What about him indeed? "Well for starters he's got to be the whiniest, most obnoxious person I've ever met. And I know _Damian_ for Christ's sake." Jason ignored Dick's irritated eye roll and continued. "I feel like I have to fight with him every time I see him. He's always asking about Nightwing and demanding to know when he'll be back and why I won't tell him where he is, blah, blah, blah. He's just- _arg_ -he's seriously doing my fucking head in." Jason looked back up at Dick, "I have to ask in all seriousness, what the hell did you ever see in him?"

Dick's brows pinch the slightest bit, "In Andy?"

Jason nodded.

Dick considered his answer carefully, "Andy is-Andy's a nice guy."

"Yeah you keep saying-"

Dick cut him off, "Andy's a nice guy; he's sweet and kind and kind of shy-"

Jason huffed, "Doesn't seem all that shy to-" Dick pinched him, "- _hey_."

"I'm talking, jackass."

"Well you're not exactly selling him here. I still don't get it-I mean what am I missing? Is he a really great lay or something?"

Dick smirked and looked thoughtful.

"Seriously?"

Dick grinned, but shook his head.

"That bad, huh?" Jason tried not to laugh, "Figures-"

"Actually," Dick thought on his answer a bit longer than Jason cared for. "I wouldn't know."

"Wouldn't know? Wait, so you're telling me you dated the guy for three months and you never-"

Dick's shoulder lifted, but his eyes went somewhere to the side, "It's not like we never had the chance it just, it never felt right, you know." He swallowed and his voice took on that watery tone Jason swore was getting more common these days. Mood swings, hormones whatever they were, it made conversations switch way too damn fast for Jason to keep up with, "The truth is I spent the whole time I was with Andy trying to get you out of my head and I-I couldn't. I just couldn't-"

Jason sat up and stared. His heart clenched and the moment he saw even a shine of what looked like tears, Jason grabbed the other man and pressed their lips together. He mumbled a word or two of comfort, _love you_ fell off his tongue like a mantra and in between kisses and soft assurances, Dick fell easily into his embrace.

"I was such a goddamn idiot."

Dick choked on a laugh, but didn't respond.

In a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on a bit too long, Dick finally asked, "Can I get that massage now?"

Before Jason's hands could even adjust themselves to adhere to such a request, before the biting reply that would ultimately be a yes, covered in layers of sarcasm could even break through his lips-

-Dick was gone.

Dick was gone and for some reason it felt different than the fading of a memory.

There was a shudder that felt like a cold breeze traveling through Jason's lungs.

 _A hand-hard and cold-too cold-_

It felt-

 _Too cold._

Jason wasn't sure when or how it had happened, but he was pretty sure there were tears trailing down his face.

All he could hear was the word _gone._ His heart shuddered and the cold biting hand of _loss_ squeezed at his insides _._

 _Gone._

All of it was-

 _Gone._


End file.
